Sága
by TheAngryTori
Summary: Heimdall's daughter has a talent for travel. Thor needs her help to make it to earth and stop Loki, but can she battle her best friend? And when she meets her handsome-albeit reluctant-hero, will she even want to return to Asgard? Bruce/OC
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note/Disclaimer: Hello! I've had the premise for this little fic in my head since I first saw Thor, but I didn't know where to go with it so I just left it on ice. But then I saw Avengers (and then I saw it again and again), and now I think I have a plan for this character I've got! I have the first three chapters of this already as rough drafts, so I figured that I'd go ahead and upload the first. If the response is good, I'll keep up with it. If not, I'll get right back to work on my other fictional baby, Embraceable You, which I am still thoroughly devoted to and have every intention of finishing (I promise, and I apologize for the delay to those of you who read it). This will eventually become a Bruce/OC, because Mark Ruffalo is just so cuddly. How could I possibly resist? But I do hope to focus more on action and plot and drama than I usually do, so it shouldn't get too mushy. I also intend to emphasize my OC's friendship with Loki and Thor a great deal, because I think it's fascinating to consider how a person would respond to their best friend going off the deep end and trying to rule the universe.

With that being said, let me point out that I do not own Marvel or The Avengers, and have no plans nor intentions to make money off of this. I just wanna have a little fun. Hope you enjoy!

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Chapter One: _Tried and Found Guilty_

The young woman at the foot of the throne kept her head low, ignorant to the proceedings around her, her gaze firmly fixed on the floor. Her eyes were red and dry. It had been over a week-perhaps two, she didn't know-before they found her, trapped inside that cell. He had left her there, alone with nothing but her guilt to keep her company. Her despair had nearly consumed her, and she felt hollow inside. When she had finally been found, it had only taken one look at the shame on her face to discover what her role in the Trickster's plot had been.

She hadn't been fed nor allowed to rest. They'd simply grabbed her and thrown her down before the All-Father, calling her to testify for her crimes.

Her own father wasn't even present. She doubted that word had yet reached him at his post. True to her name, Sága had seen all that transpired during her confinement, and knew the Bifrost was lost. Even so, father still stood at the end of the Rainbow Bridge.

When he learned that she had been charged and tried before anyone even informed him that she'd been found, not even Odin could save them from his wrath.

With that thought in mind, she raised her head and forced herself back to the present. Thor was arguing her case, attempting to defend her before the king. Thor had always been a good friend, as had his brother. Once.

The All-Father noticed that she was no longer despondent, and raised his hand for silence. Even the softest murmur ceased immediately.

"Sághildr, daughter of Heimdall. You are charged with aiding the rebellious Loki, by revealing paths that should have remained hidden, thus allowing the Frost Giants to infiltrate our realm. This is a grave charge against you. My son Thor suggests compassion, citing your friendship with Loki as the basis for your betrayal. What do you say to this?"

Silence reined in the grand hall as she collected her thoughts. When she spoke, her voice sounded strained and tired.

"My king… This thing have I done; I have not denied it, nor do I, nor will I ever. It was my love for Prince Loki that made me vulnerable to his deceit. I know I can be trusted no longer, lest I fall again to such deception. The shame I feel," here her voice broke, and she took a moment to compose herself, "at the result of my careless words is alone the worst punishment I have ever received. Yet I realize that the horror of my crime calls for even greater." She raised her eyes to the throne once again, finding the All-Father studying her with interest. "If you consider it a worthy punishment, my king, I shall take a vow of silence until such time as you allow me to speak again."

The hall erupted in frantic whispers as Odin considered her suggestion. She hung her head, staring at her dark hands in contrast against the pale white stone beneath her, waiting for his decision.

"Arise, Sághildr." Thor was at her side immediately, gently gripping her arm to help her stand. "Your suggestion is just, daughter of Heimdall," Odin announced. "From this day forward, I bind your tongue, and only I have the power to loose it. You will say nothing until that time, or else your punishment will be most severe, and I will show no further compassion." She crossed her arm over her chest and took a deep bow, saying nothing. "Thor, take her to her father."

"At once," Thor obeyed. "Thank you for your mercy and justice." With that, he turned and led his friend out of the hall, through the castle and the city, and to the very end of the rainbow road. They travelled in silence, Thor striding purposefully with a grim expression on his face, Sága trudging just a step behind and holding onto his hand as if for her life. Perhaps even more than she had feared the outcome of her trial, she feared her father's reaction. If he rejected her for her crime, it would ruin what little there was left of her.

Her fears were unnecessary. Heimdall turned from his post at the sound of their approach. For perhaps the first time in his long life, he relaxed his grip on his greatsword, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. He rushed to his daughter and wrapped his strong arms around her tightly enough to crush a mortal.

"I could not see you," he gasped, voice thick with emotion. "I was so afraid that you were lost forever. Oh, my daughter…" She held onto him just as tightly, weeping, though not a sound escaped her throat.

Thor watched in surprise. It was no secret that Heimdall was deeply fond of his mortal-born daughter Sághildr, as she was of him. Yet neither was particularly expressive of sentiment, and such a display of emotion was unheard of from them.

"Loki had trapped her in an enchanted room," Thor informed him softly. "Sága has been charged with aiding him in the discovery of alternative paths into Asgard. Though she was a victim to my brother's tricks, her actions still contributed to his treachery. Thus she has been tried and found guilty, and sentenced to silence until the day my father lets loose her tongue."

Heimdall pulled away, holding her at arm's length. He tried to look her in the eye, but she would not meet his gaze. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead softly anyway. "I believe I have you to thank for your father's lenience. Thank you, Thor Odinson."

Thor hung his head for a moment. "We were all taken in by Loki's deception, Sága more directly than most. He used her love and affection against her. The court does not agree with me entirely, but I do not find affection to be a crime."

Heimdall smiled grimly, placing a heavy hand on Thor's shoulder. "You will make a great king, Thor." He looked out over the edge of the Bifrost for a long moment. "There will be no threats against Asgard this day, nor the day to come. I will take my daughter home."

He retrieved his sword and returned it to its scabbard on his back, then picked up his daughter and walked away, carrying her in his arms.

Thor watched them go, then gazed out over the shattered edge of the road, trying and failing to see what the guardian saw out there. With a great sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. "Is this what you wanted, brother?"


	2. Midgard

Author's Note: Okay! Wow! Hello! I really can't believe the reception you guys have given this little fic already. Thank you! And a special thank you to those who have added me to their list of favorite authors because of it. That is, truly, a great honor. I want you guys, all of you who have added me to favorite author/stories lists or to story/author alerts or left reviews, to know that I do visit your profiles and read your stories as well. It really is an honor to have such talented people interested in what I've written. So, I'll stop wasting your time and let you read the next chapter!

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Chapter Two: _Midgard_

Sághildr sat at the very edge of the rainbow road, her feet dangling into the great black expanse below. Not for the first time, she considered jumping off, following Loki down to Hel. Or wherever he had landed, as she refused to believe he was gone. She could not truly have lost her best friend, not like this.

Late one night, long after everyone else had gone to bed, Thor had confided in her that his brother had fallen willingly—that he chose to let go. Surely, he would not have left her with so much animosity between them. There was no way that he would possibly allow himself to die without making things right, at least for her. He must have known that the fall would not kill him.

At least, that's what she told herself in order to stay sane.

She raised her arms above her head and stretched, her muscles stiff from sitting so long. She often came here to sit, keeping her father company in her own way. He was the only thing that kept her from hurling herself off the edge. If he hadn't been there she would have done so long ago. She could not make him be a witness to such an act; but he hardly ever left his post anymore. More than a year after Loki's treason, and though the Bifrost was long gone, Heimdall was still on high alert for intruders into Asgard.

She knew it all too well—there were many paths between the realms. The Bifrost had simply been most convenient.

With a heavy sigh, she turned her gaze toward Midgard. The humans there were always so fascinating, and she took special interest in the realm she had once called home. Her mother had been human, and Sághildr lived with her until her death, when Heimdall brought her to Asgard.

Sága had not fit in on Midgard, and she did not fit in here.

Perhaps that was what drew Loki to her. She did not know how to be popular or well-liked—all those years ago, when she had lived on Midgard, the humans had placed a great deal of importance on the color of one's skin. While she had always thought hers was a pretty light brown, her mother's had been fair. This, combined with her father's presumed absence, had withheld her from the possibility of having friends, in case her condition was contagious. And when she came to Asgard, her mother's mortality had had much the same effect.

But then she had run into Loki, in quite the literal sense. He had been so alone, just like her, and they decided to be alone together. He became her closest friend, her confidant—even, for a time, her lover, though they soon realized that they were forcing something that wasn't there and went back to being best friends.

Thor became her friend as well, because he knew how important she was to his brother. With him came a slew of people who called themselves her friend, though it was clear to see that they only tolerated her because Thor told them to.

All of this she had kept secret from Heimdall. She would spend so much of her time out of the house, telling him that she was with friends; in reality she and Loki would sit in a corner of the room together, watching as the others ate and told great tales, hoping that Thor would not call them over to join. She did not want her father to know that she was ill-treated. He had loved her mother very much, and did not understand or realize that the others held mortals in such low esteem.

But he was beginning to realize it now. It was difficult to miss. Very few Asgardians spoke to her anymore, and it had little to do with her supposed crime or her new silence. It made him sad and bitter and angry, and Sága suspected that this bitterness contributed to his self-imposed exile here at the end of the road.

Thor now visited her nearly as often as Loki used to. His friends were uncertain of him as well, as he had fallen in love with a mortal woman named Jane Foster. He was the only visitor she ever received anymore, at their little home on the shore of the sea, near the road.

She had always lived near the sea. She could still see where she had lived with her mother in Midgard, though the little cabin had long since been destroyed and the coastline had shifted from where it once was. There was now a bustling city along the new coast, and a skyscraper stood where their home used to be. None of that had been there centuries ago. Their cabin had been remote, far enough away from the little village that no one would notice the strange man who occasionally came to visit.

Sága had inherited her father's eyesight and hearing, allowing her to see and communicate with him wherever she was. But her mother had neither, and it had been hard on her to be so far removed. Heimdall came to see them as often as he could, his arrivals and departures always accompanied by violent storms.

Much like that storm she saw now, off to the east in what was called Germany.

_Wait_…

She leaned forward, dangerous this close to the edge, trying to get a better look.

_It couldn't be…_

"What is it, Sá?" her father asked, though she scarcely heard him, all of her attentions firmly on this courtyard in Midgard.

There, standing before a crowd of humans, holding a scepter with a brightly glowing blue gem at its tip...

_It's him!_

Jumping to her feet, she grabbed her father's hand, allowing him to see what she saw. He gasped in surprise, his hand gripping hers tightly.

"You must go find Thor," he ordered. In the next moment, she was gone.

* * *

A strong hand gripped his shoulder, shaking the great son of Odin awake. Thor's eyes snapped open, and he found himself face-to-face with Sága, a wild frenzy in her eyes. The past year had accustomed him to reading her expressions and gestures, to the point that she rarely needed to use paper and pen in order to communicate with him. But he had never seen such panic in her eyes before, and it shook him to the core.

"What is it, Sá?" She rose and rushed to his chamber door, then turned to look at him pointedly. The message was clear: he needed to follow her.

He threw off his covers, grabbing Mjolnir from its place at his bedside, his armor covering his body as soon as he gripped the mighty hammer. "Take me there," he ordered.

She strode toward him, gripping his free hand tightly. He felt the now-familiar pull of her magic, and his bedchamber quickly vanished into darkness. When his sight returned, he found that they stood at the ruined edge of the Bifrost. Heimdall turned to address them, a hint of Sága's panic creeping into the guardian's solemn countenance.  
"Your brother Loki has allowed himself to be seen."

Enraged, Thor strode to the edge, straining to see. "Where is he?" he demanded. "And why have you not sent for my father?"

"He is on Midgard. He has acquired the Tesseract, made claims to an army, and declared war on the mortals."  
With a great roar that shook the road, Thor threw Mjolnir out into the darkness. He should have known. Taking deep breaths, he tried to calm himself as he waited for his hammer to return to him. Even so, he did not feel calm again until its familiar weight had returned to his hand. "What can we do? The road to Midgard is lost."

Heimdall nodded his head slowly, before looking pointedly at his daughter. "Yes. But there are other ways between the realms."

Thor turned to his friend, noting the determination burning in her eyes. "You would help me find a way to Midgard?" She raised her right arm across her chest and bowed, a clear yes. "Then take me to my father," he ordered. "We must convince him to end your punishment."

As she reached for his hand, she shared a look with her father. There would not be time to come back and say goodbye. "I will watch you closely," the great guardian promised. "Be safe, my daughter."

Everything faded away again, and Thor found that they were standing outside of the doors to the grand hall. Sága swayed slightly on her feet, but it passed quickly. The use of such strong magic—to transport another Asgardian, and without the use of spoken words—was taxing on her. If Odin refused to relinquish her punishment, the journey to Midgard might kill her.

More determined than before, Thor forced open the heavy doors to the hall, striding boldly into the room.

"Father!" he bellowed, not caring what he might be interrupting. He ignored the looks of outrage on the faces of those in attendance, as well as how those looks changed to disgust when they saw the woman following closely behind him. With Loki absent, much of the blame for what had happened had fallen on Sághildr, especially since she could not speak to defend herself. Many disapproved of his enduring friendship with her because of what she was believed to have done. But Thor knew the truth, and would not abandon his friend for anything. He was the only friend she had left.

"Thor," his father addressed. "Surely this can wait…" he began, gesturing to the council members before him, but Thor cut him off.

"There is nothing more important than this. Prince Loki has been found." His words silenced all murmurs in the hall, and Odin leaned forward in his throne.

"Where is he?"

"Midgard, and well out of our reach unless we do something immediately. He claims to have an army, and has declared war on the humans."

"And what would you have me do?"

Thor took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I would have you release the tongue of Sághildr, daughter of Heimdall, that she might use her words to take me to Midgard. The earth is under _my _protection," he reminded the court. "I will find and capture my brother, put an end to his war, and return with him in my custody." The hall erupted in harsh, frantic whispers, but the king held up his hand for silence.  
"Sághildr, daughter of Heimdall, step forward." Timidly, she stepped out from behind Thor's large frame and stood before the throne. "Do you agree to use your power to take Thor to Midgard, and aid him in putting an end to Loki's rebellion, as retribution for your crime?" She raised her arm across her chest, lowered herself to one knee, and hung her head in a clear sign of obedience. "Very well. I thus loose your tongue and give you back your words. Go, and bring back my disobedient son."

"Thank you for your mercy and justice, my king," she acknowledged, her voice faint and raw from disuse. Standing, she turned to face Thor, and he noticed the hint of tears in her eyes. Whether from the relief at having her voice back, the pain of using it again, or the fear of what they might have to do when they met Loki, he could not know. "Are you ready, Prince Thor?" She asked, offering her hand. He placed his hand in hers, resigned to what he must do.

Closing her eyes, she began to speak the words. Each one left her mouth in a puff of white light, flowing together in thick ribbons. The streams of magic began to swirl around them, whirling faster and faster until all he could see was white. He felt his feet leave the ground, and pulled Sága closer, lest he lose her along the way.

Her words roared in his ears, the wind tore at his face and clothes, and the brightness of the magic threatened to blind him.

And then, suddenly, it stopped. The wind still tore at them, but when he looked around they were in the midst of dark clouds, lightning cracking all around.

"We're here!" she yelled over the roar of the storm.

With a grin, Thor began to spin his hammer, commanding the path of the storm and directing them toward the presence of Loki's power. "Hold on!" he called to her, and she gripped his hand with both of hers. Thor threw his hammer, allowing Mjolnir's momentum to propel them forward, toward his brother and the battle that surely awaited them.


	3. Come Home!

Author's Note: Here's another chapter for you! Still no Bruce yet, but we do get to talk to Loki for a bit! Bruce and the rest of the Avengers should make an appearance in the next chapter. Also, I want to point out that any of the dialogue that I use from the movie is strictly from my own memory. I'm trying to avoid using more...erm...illegal means, but I do really want to stick to the script. If you have any corrections for me, please let me know and I'll try to make that happen. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter Three: _Come Home!_

"Stay here!"

Sága clung to the roof of the jet, where Thor had deposited her. He let go of her hand and threw his hammer once more, again letting the momentum direct him beneath the aircraft to retrieve his brother. She held her breath, the high speed making it difficult to breathe, as she waited for any sign of the two. Before too long, she spotted Thor jumping out of the back of the jet, Loki gripped tightly in his arms. She crawled to the edge, preparing to follow, when suddenly another figure flew out as well.

She had seen this one from Asgard, the red and gold figure; the Iron Man, they called him. "_Shit_," she breathed. She had seen what he could do. He was dangerous, and if he was following Thor, it couldn't be for good.

She rose up on her hands and knees, again readying herself to go. Sure, she could just transport herself from right here to the cliff where Thor had landed. But she had another idea.

It was a stupid idea, of course. But, as she spied another figure jump out of the jet—this one clothed in blue, with a dark bag strapped to his bag and a red shield on his arm—she figured tonight was a night for stupid ideas.

She stood, and allowed the winds of the storm drag her from the roof of the metal aircraft.

And then she was falling.

She pulled all of her limbs in close, propelling her even faster toward the earth, dropping like a stone. She hadn't done something like this in a very long time, hadn't had the power to do so for a year now. It felt_ fantastic_.

She grinned as she breached the tops of the trees, spinning in the air and pointing her feet toward the rapidly approaching ground. She parted her lips to speak, the wind ripping the words from her mouth. Mere seconds before impact, she vanished in a swirl of light…

…Only to reappear on the edge of a cliff, landing heavily on her feet behind Loki, who was too busy taunting his brother to notice her arrival.

"How much dark energy must the All-Father have summoned to send you here?"

"None," she answered, and he spun around, surprise and a hint of fear written all over his features. "He summoned me instead." She must have looked positively frightening, crouching there; the darkness of the storm made her brown skin appear black as pitch, her white hair whipped around her face in the wind, and her golden eyes glowed brightly in the aftermath of magic. Loki's face paled just a fraction more than usual, but he quickly recovered his usual mischievous stance.

"Why, Sághildr. You're looking…_feral_. Has my time away been so unforgiving?"

"We thought you dead!" Thor cried, exasperated.

"Oh, and did you mourn?" his brother sneered, whirling back around to face him. He knew Sága would not attack him from behind; more importantly, now that he knew she was there, she had no hope to sneak up on him.

"We all did," she informed him softly, just barely loud enough to be heard over the storm that still raged around them.

"Of _course_ we did! Our father—" Thor began, but was quickly cut off by Loki's snarl.

"_Your_ father," he spat. "I assume he told you all about my…parentage."

"Yes," Thor admitted, as his brother stalked away from him in a rage. "But it does not matter! We were raised together; we played together! Surely, you must remember!"

"I remember a shadow." Loki's frown deepened. "I remember living in your shadow, the shadow of your greatness!"

"Then your memory serves you ill, my prince," Sága spoke up, hoping to put an end to their bickering. "Please, put this bitterness behind you. Come home!"

Thor tried again. "Put an end to this senseless war, Loki. These mortals have done you no wrong. Tell us where the Tesseract is, and we may all go home together."

Loki tore his eyes away from Sága, fixing his brother with a sheepish grin. "I don't know where it is."

"What?"

"I have sent it off, I know not where! You're too late. This cannot be stopped!"

Furious, Thor strode forward and grabbed his brother roughly. "Now listen here—"

They never got to hear what he was to say. Suddenly the Iron Man came flying by, plowing into Thor and barreling them both off into the woods.

"I'm listening," Loki retorted, smirking at the stunned expression on Sága's face.

At that, she collected herself, and got into a defensive stance with a snarl. The sound escaped her lips in a swirl of white light, which quickly solidified into a sword that she held easily in her hand, holding it level at the god of mischief.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, chuckling. "Put it away, darling. I'm not going anywhere. In fact, I'd rather like to watch the show." He turned and sat on the ground, looking out toward his brother's battle. She kept the sword trained on him, though allowed her stance to relax just slightly.

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the two men fight—Loki in amusement, Sága in disgust—before he spoke again. "What is the matter with your voice, Sághildr?"

She frowned deeply. "It hasn't seen much use this past year. My punishment for aiding in your rebellion," she spat.

He tore his eyes away from the fight to glance up at her, his frown matching hers. "They took away your _voice_? _How dare they_…"

"I was lucky they did not have me _executed_!" she pointed out, exasperated. "Though often I wished they had! A swift death would have been preferable to spending a year without my power!" She should not be yelling at him, she knew. He needed to find compassion and a friendly face, rather than be faced with more anger and disappointment. But she couldn't help it; it just felt so good to yell again.

When his gaze dropped to the rocky ground beneath him, though, her heart dropped with it. She could not stay mad at him.

"I am sorry to have gotten you mixed up in this, Sága, to have put you through so much. That was never my intention. You were the only one who was good to me. It was not supposed to end as it did… But I needed your words! Don't you see? I had to try!"

She opened her mouth to respond, but whatever answer she meant to give was cut off by a great clamor from down below. She dropped her sword, which disappeared in a thin white mist upon impact with the ground, pressing her hands against her ears. With her sensitive hearing, the clash echoed around in her skull, making her vision swim. She gasped and fell to her knees, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. When the ringing finally stopped, she looked around to find its source.

_There_. In the center of a new clearing in the trees, three men slowly rose to their feet—Thor, the Man of Iron, and the blue-clothed man she had seen jump from the airplane.

"Oh, they are _children_," she ground out in fury, though glad that they had finally seemed to get over their little display of power.

Beside her, Loki merely chuckled darkly, waiting patiently for them to return and arrest him once more.


	4. As Always

Author's Note: Oh my gosh. I am so, so sorry, you guys. It seems that I have lied to you. Unfortunately, Bruce will not be making an appearance in this chapter. I know! I feel so bad! It's just, I had such a great time writing Loki's interactions with Sága in the last chapter, and I really wanted to do it again! And then this idea wormed its way into my brain, and I just _had_ to write it! I hope you can forgive me, and I'm about 87% certain that Bruce will be in the next chapter!

I really think you guys are gonna like this one. Maybe it's just me. I added a little snippet of Loki/Sága backstory, which was a lot of fun. It's like I have all of this history between them mapped out in my noggin. I've truly been developing their relationship since Thor came out which was, what? Two years ago? So I'm just working on placing little glimpses of their friendship throughout the story. I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter Four: _As Always__  
_

The rest of his plane ride was sorely uneventful.

Thor had shuffled him along, half dragging him inside the aircraft, and forced him down into one of the seats. The introductions had begun then, and he listened carefully while feigning ignorance. The pilot was irrelevant, and he didn't bother remembering his name. The rest, however, it would be beneficial to know.

Tony Stark, the self-proclaimed genius who was so integral to his plan. Captain Steve Rogers, a super soldier well out of his depth. His brother Thor, always present to ruin his fun. Now Agent Natasha Romanoff, this one was interesting. Oh, how she glared at him! There was surely something beneath such hatred. And then, of course, there was Sághildr.

Her presence here had thrown him. It had killed him to think so, but he hadn't expected Odin to trust her enough to let her come, not after what had happened. And he truthfully hadn't wanted her here. It could be dangerous, and if something were to happen to her… His best friend, the only one who had cared about him… Yet now she was opposing him.

He glanced over at her. She was sitting far in the back, her legs stretched out in front of her, eyes closed. Her chest was rising and falling heavily. She had to be tired; the energy it must have taken to come here, and to bring Thor along with his bulky hammer, all of that extra weight and mass and magic... As always, he was surprised by her strength and resilience.

She might have been sleeping, were it not for the hand anxiously twirling a strand of white hair around her fingers. She only did that when uncomfortable and agitated, reminding her of all those years ago, when her black hair had begun to turn.

* * *

_Loki and Sága sat in their usual place, huddled closely together in the furthest corner from the long dining table. Thor and his friends had just returned from a successful hunting trip in lower Asgard, the wild and savage side of the realm. Loki had gone along, under Frigga's request, in the hope that he might keep his brother from getting too carried away. He knew there was little he could do; that Thor would do as he pleased and never listened to anyone's advice; but he also knew it was almost as useless to argue with Frigga. Telling himself that he would seek out Sága as soon as he returned, he agreed to go._

_But he had not needed to seek her out after. She had been there at the gate, waiting for him as she always was. She never admitted to it, but he suspected that she watched over him whenever he left, and would hurry to the gate as soon as she spied his return. But it wasn't until he had come close enough to touch her, and noticed the long streaks of white against her wild black hair, that he recognized why her grin was so much more forced than normal._

_He had said nothing of it, as it was obviously bothering her, and instead took her by the hand and walked with her the rest of the way. They had sat in their corner, silent as the grave. Unlike his brother's friends, he took no joy in recounting stories of the mindless beasts they had slaughtered, and she took no joy in hearing them. Normally, they managed to find something to talk about. But she was more withdrawn than normal, and he did not want to force her._

_He couldn't understand why this hair thing was so bothersome to her. He thought it quite stunning; she was normally shy and quiet, and much smaller than full-blooded Asgardians, and so normally went overlooked. This, however, was so striking and unusual. It made her stand out, as he knew she deserved to._

_Perhaps that was what made Fandral call out to them this time, and ask them to join their feast upon the creatures they had so recently killed._

"_Yes, Loki," Volstagg had added, "bring your little pet here, that we might see her!"_

_He hated when they called her that. Sághildr was no pet. But nonetheless, they stood and made their way across the room._

"_Ah, and what is this you have done with your hair, pet?" Fandral asked pleasantly, though his eyes held a hint of mockery. "If you're trying to win yourself a mate, you'll find me more than willing."_

_She did not respond, her face flushing as she dropped her eyes to her plate. She was pushing her food around, making it appear that she'd eaten, but Loki got the feeling she had very recently lost what little appetite she had._

"_That's not it, you buffoon," Thor laughed. Everything was such a joke to him. "I'm sure she just desired a change. And it is a lovely change, if I may say so, my lady."_

_Sága glanced up at him with a shy smile, and opened her mouth to thank him for the compliment, but was quickly cut off by Sif. "You are both of you buffoons," she scolded darkly. "You forget that she is half mortal. Her hair is graying from old age!"_

_The table erupted in laughter at such a ridiculous notion, but Sága had frozen, her fork in midair. Loki narrowed his eyes at Sif, who was looking proudly around at her friends, pleased at the effect her words were having. Normally he would be ecstatic at the opportunity to mock someone—but not at Sága's expense. No, never Sága._

_Slowly the laughter died down, as they belatedly noticed Sága was not joining in. Volstagg was the first to muster up the courage to ask, "Surely that is not the truth, Lady Sághildr?"_

_She smiled grimly, her eyes stubbornly fixed at a bare spot on the wall. "Yes, it is true. If you'll excuse me, my lords and lady; I hear my father calling for me." She rose from the table swiftly and headed for the door, her steps measured and careful._

_The table had grown silent. Loki shot a glare at all of them—and a special glare for Sif, who still had a proud look in her eyes at the distress she had caused—before raising to his feet and going after her. His long legs should have quickly caught him up with her, but when he entered the hall he found her already gone. He cursed under his breath. Her ability to transport herself wherever she wanted could be infuriating sometimes._

_Turning on his heel, he headed for the home at the edge of the sea. He sorely hoped she was there, or at the Bifrost with her father. There were only three places she went to get away, and the third was Midgard, where he greatly did not want to follow._

_It was a long walk. For the millionth time, he made a note to ask her to teach him her magic. He knocked on the front door of the cabin, but there was no answer so he let himself in._

"_Sága?" he called out. Surely Heimdall would not be there at this time. He strode through the kitchen and knocked on the door to her room. "Sága? Are you in there?" No answer again, but he thought he might have heard a faint sniffle from inside. To make sure, he slowly opened the door._

_There on the bed was a large, Sághildr-shaped pile of blankets. He sighed. "Sága, it's me."_

"_Go away!" came the muffled response._

_He stepped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "I don't understand why you're so upset about this, darling."_

"_If you've come here to mock me, I'll just go somewhere else," she grumbled angrily._

"_No!" He reached forward to touch what he assumed to be her shoulder under the layers. "Don't go. I don't mean to mock you, not this time. I truly don't understand. I want you to explain to me why it bothers you so. I want to help."_

_Slowly, her head emerged from out of the blankets and she looked up at him, studying his face for a hint that he may be lying. She could read him better than anyone else. The tears on her cheeks broke his heart, and he raised a hand to wipe them away._

_She closed her eyes, leaning into the touch. "Why can't I ever just be normal?" Her voice was so sad, and so soft he almost didn't hear her._

"_Why would you want to be? Normal is so boring, darling. And you know how much I hate to be bored." A corner of her mouth quirked in response, and he grinned. He let go of her cheek for just a moment, bending over to tug off his boots, and then climbed into the bed beside her. She graciously unwound one of the quilts wrapped around her body to cover his, and rested her head on his chest. "Listen to me, Sága. Your mother's mortality has made you who you are. You should wear it as a badge of honor. They may not love you for it, but who cares about them?_ I_ love you for it, and I always will. And I'm worth, what? Twenty of them?"_

_She grinned, reaching up a blanket-covered hand to dry her eyes. "Oh, I'd say a hundred, easily."_

_He grinned in response, and wrapped his arms around her, and they just stayed like that for the rest of the night._

* * *

A matter of weeks later, her hair had been completely white, the color it was now. She had been so young then; decades had passed since, perhaps centuries. He really couldn't keep it straight anymore. They had been thick as thieves, back then. Now she sat so far away from him, and she could hardly bring herself to look at him. How had things gone so wrong?

"Sága?" he whispered, so low that the others could not hear him. The hand in her hair froze, and her eyes snapped open, but she did not look at him or make any other indication that she had heard. All the same, he knew she had. "I'm sorry I said you looked feral earlier," he continued just as softly. "In truth, you look even more beautiful than I had remembered."

Her soft smile was nearly his undoing. It was not the grin he remembered, and she still did not look at him. But the fact that she would still smile at a compliment from him, after all the pain he had caused for her, nearly made him spill his plan to the entire aircraft then and there. But he remembered the warning the Chitauri had given him, the price of his failure. He tore his eyes away from her, looking instead to his supposed brother, letting his anger consume him once more.

He would have to make certain to avoid her from here on out.


	5. Who is She?

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! I was out of town and away from my computer for the extended weekend. Hopefully this long chapter will make up for it! And we finally get to meet Bruce! This whole chapter is done from his perspective, because I really like changing things up. Also, I should point out that this chapter is kind of heavy on the **spoilers**, since I essentially copied this scene out of the movie. It also merits pointing out that I am not an expert in thermo-nuclear astrophysics, so if I've made a mistake in any of the Science Bro dialogue (or really anywhere else, for that matter), please let me know and I'll try to change it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Five: _Who is She?_

"Dr. Banner? As in Dr. Bruce Banner?"

Bruce glanced across the table in surprise. This girl—no, woman—standing beside Thor knew him? "Uh, y-yeah. I guess." The excitement in her smile was contagious, and she didn't seem to know what to do with her hands.

"Oh! Dr. Banner! I—Oh, it's an honor!"

The huge blonde man beside her was looking at her in surprise and amusement. Apparently this jittery excitement was not her natural state. Bruce wanted to make an intelligent response, but all that came out was, "Uh… What?"

She laughed, but it wasn't condescending like he was usually met with. "Oh, the tales of your genius and strength have spread throughout the nine realms! Surely, you must know?"

He cleared his throat nervously. If that were true, it meant he could have more people on his back than just earthly agencies looking to tame the beast. "No, I, uh… I didn't know that."

She seemed to pick up on his discomfort and smiled shyly, a faint blush covering her cheeks. "Well, they are my favorite tales. The human man who made himself so much more."

He tried to return her smile, though he was pretty sure it came out as more of a grimace. Thankfully, Agent Romanov strode into the room, distracting everyone's attention. Except for that woman's, it seemed. He could feel her eyes on him. The other guy growled at the scrutiny, but he quieted him quickly. She wasn't looking for weaknesses, he assured him. She just wanted to get a good look at her hero. He almost laughed aloud at the thought. Bruce Banner was no hero.

As Natasha sat, a line of video screens lit up around the outer edge of the table. He leaned against the back of a chair, peering down to see the live video feed from Loki's cell, where Director Fury was "acquainting" him with his new quarters, saying something about a boot.

"It's an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me," the god teased.

"Built for something much stronger than you."

"Oh, I've heard. A mindless beast; makes play he's still a man."

Aha. There it was.

He glanced over at Agent Romanov, who at least had the grace to look ashamed and drop her gaze. He should have known they'd have something, just in case.

Before returning his gaze to the screen, he glanced across at his little fangirl across the table. She was still looking at him, but her brow was furrowed and she looked thoroughly concerned; for a moment, she seemed a million miles away. As if she felt his gaze, her eyes focused and the worry seemed to melt away from her face as she smiled at him. He chewed on his lip noncommittally, dropping his eyes back to the table and tuning back in to hear Fury describe how desperate this villain had made him.

"Ooh… It burns you, to have come so close," the god of mischief taunted, "To have the Tesseract; to have power—_unlimited_ power… And for what? A warm light for all mankind to share?" He turned and looked directly into the camera, his grin practically dripping with malice. Interesting…

Bruce glanced up at that woman again for half a second. The concern was back, but she was now peering intently into one of the screens.

"…And then to be reminded what real power is," Loki was still going on.

"Well let me know if 'Real Power' wants a magazine or something," Fury condescended, reminding him that he was currently imprisoned. But it didn't seem to matter. The god had already turned away and was gazing up at the camera with a blank expression and a fearsome gleam in his eye. It was totally unnerving so, as always, Bruce cracked a joke.

"He really grows on you, doesn't he?"

The woman shot him an apologetic smile. Also interesting. Just who _was_ she? He took to pacing beside the table. It helped him think.

"Loki's gonna drag this out," Steve said, automatically assuming the role of leadership. "So… Thor, what's his play?"

"He has an army, called the Chitauri," the huge blonde began, his expression pensive. "They're not of Asgard, nor of any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the earth…in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract."

"An army. From out of space." The captain sounded completely incredulous. And well he should. A month ago he had been battling Nazis in Germany.

"So he's building another portal," Bruce reasoned. It definitely fit. "That's what he needs Eric Selvig for."

"Selvig?" Thor asked.

"He's an astrophysicist," he explained. SHIELD probably hadn't taken the time to debrief him on the minor details of Loki's time here.

"He's a friend," Thor clarified. He knew him? Man… Asgard sure seemed to be up on current events…

"Loki has him under some kind of spell. Along with one of ours…" Agent Romanov informed him, proving his assumption that he hadn't been debriefed.

"I wanna know why Loki let us take him," Steve was saying. "He's not leading an army from here."

No, no, no…that couldn't be it… Bruce thought back to the grinning man who had strolled past him in the lab. "I don't think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy's brain is a bag full of cats; you can smell crazy on him."

Across the table, the woman gave a strangled snort of a laugh, which she expertly disguised as a cough. It was a stark contrast to the male Asgardian's threatening steps toward the table. "Have a care how you speak. Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard. And he is my brother."

Thor's thinly-veiled threat normally would have sent the other guy into a rage, but Bruce didn't even notice. He was completely focused on that woman. Who was she? Another Asgardian, that much was obvious. Was she their sibling as well? That was difficult to believe. Despite the stark physical differences between the two brothers, it seemed like too great a stretch to think that she was also related.

"He killed eighty people in two days," Romanov was saying, but he hardly heard it. That woman…something was wrong. Her breathing was labored—not that he was looking at her chest! That would be completely inappropriate. It was strictly a…medical appraisal. Of course.

By way of apology, Thor sheepishly added, "…He's adopted."

"I don't know, Dr. Banner," the woman spoke up. He quickly tore his eyes away from her chest. "I think the Captain may be on to something."

"What do you mean, Sága?" Thor asked. So _that_ was her name. A strange name, but not much stranger than "Loki" and "Thor", he figured. Was she a god too? He wished he'd done some sort of research into Norse mythology before coming here.

She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, all eyes now on her. "It's just…well, he came so willingly. While you three were off wrestling like a bunch of _pubescent Kauthosi_…" (by the way Thor hung his head with a grimace, this was some sort of insult. What on earth was she talking about?) "…he never once tried to escape from me, nor did he fight me."

"You and I both know Loki would never harm you, Sá." Thor's words were spoken softly and kindly, as if meant only for the two of them, though he seemed unaware of how loudly he spoke and all of them did hear it.

She smiled kindly in return, but there was sadness in it. "I know," she whispered, before continuing on normally. "But there was something about this, something different." With a sigh, she placed her hands on the tabletop, leaning forward and peering into the blackness as though it would give her answers. "It was as if he wanted to be taken…" Her frown deepened, and she pushed away from the table sharply and ran a hand through her hair. "I don't know. It may be nothing. Maybe I'm just seeing things. I've seen too much…"

Her words hung in the air, like some private joke that no one knew the punch line to. "I still think it's about the mechanics," Bruce began, trying to get the momentum started again. That had been too much of a lull. They needed to figure this thing out, and he was determined to get them there. "The Iridium. What do they need the Iridium for?"

"It's a stabilizing agent."

Ah, and there he is, ladies and gents. Tony Stark, the one and only, finally walking into their meeting beside one of the SHIELD agents. What was his name again? Coleman? No, Coulson. That's it.

"Knees. Portal won't collapse in on itself, like it did at SHIELD." He glanced up when he saw Thor, patting the god's massive bicep. "No hard feelings, Point Break. You gotta mean swing." Just what exactly had happened on that plane ride back? "Also means the portal can open as wide, and stay open as long, as Loki wants."

Stark stepped up to the helm, messing around with the controls and barking pretend orders. Almost everyone's eyes were on him, but Bruce found himself distracted. That woman, Sága, was breathing heavily again. One hand gripped the back of a black leather chair so tightly that her knuckles were going white. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, as though she was trying very hard to stay upright. Slowly, so as not to attract attention, Bruce began stepping his way around the table toward her. No one seemed to notice him at all, until Stark said something about a power source that pulled his mind away from the woman and back to the task at hand.

"He'd have to heat the cube to _120 million Kelvin_ just to break through the cooling barrier," he pointed out.

"Unless Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect."

Ha! "Well, if he could do that, he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet."

Stark approached him with a grin. "Finally! Someone who speaks English."

"Is that what just happened?" Rogers asked no one in particular.

Tony reached out and shook Bruce's hand. It was only the second time someone on this aircraft carrier had had the courage the touch him. "It's good to meet you, Dr. Banner. Your work on anti-electronic collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster."

…Well. At least he wasn't beating around the bush. "Thanks."

"Doctor Banner is only here to track the cube," Director Fury reassured, striding up to the head of the table with the air of a man in charge. "I was hoping you might join him."

"It'd start with that stick of his," Rogers suggested. "It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a Hydra weapon."

"I don't know about that, but it is powered by the cube," Fury agreed. "And I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys."

"Monkeys?" Thor asked, brow furrowed in confusion. "I do not understand—"

"I do!" Steve cut in, beside himself with excitement. Tony rolled his eyes, and Bruce looked around the room in discomfort. "I—I understood that reference."

Bruce's gaze landed on the woman once more. Her eyes were closed, her knees locked. _Shit!_

He ran forward just as her body began to sway, catching her before she hit the ground. "Nice catch, doc!" Tony called.

Her eyes were now wide open, staring at him as adrenaline gave her system a shock. "What..? Oh. Thank you, Doctor. I'm fine. It's okay. I'm just tired. Thank you." Her words came out in a rush, and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry…"

He gave her a reassuring smile, helping her stand up again, slowly. "It's alright. Why don't you come with us to the lab, so I can make sure you're alright."

"I—uh…" She looked over at Thor, as though for his approval, but he was already guiding her in the direction of the door. "Alright. But I assure you, I just need rest."

"You can rest in the lab, then," he promised, "where I can keep an eye on you."

She muttered a slew of incoherent syllables before acquiescing. "Alright."

"Great. You coming, Stark?"

"After you, Doc."

As they made their way through the seemingly endless hallways to the lab, he tried to ignore Tony's annoyingly knowing grin. And as he wrapped an arm around Sága's thin waist and helped her walk, he tried desperately to ignore the fact that this was only the third time anyone here had touched him—and the first time a woman had done it.


	6. Heartbeats

Author's Note: Another update! I really want to apologize for all of the errors in the last chapter. Ugh. I was really tired last night when I posted it. I meant to go back and fix them before I posted this one, but I'm pretty tired tonight too. I don't know when you're reading this, but it's almost 5 in the morning here. I am suffering some serious sleep deprivation because of this story, but I'm loving every minute of it! Truly, if it weren't for all of your lovely and encouraging reviews, I'd probably still be on chapter 3. I just can't stand the thought of letting you guys down! So from the bottom of my heart, thank you! I am beside myself at the reception this story has gotten, and I promise that eventually I'll get around to editing out all those pesky errors to make your reading experience that much smoother. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Chapter Six: _Heartbeats__  
_

Sága had never allowed herself to believe that she would meet him. And even in her wildest dreams, the rare fantasy she had indulged in when completely alone, she had never expected him to be like this.

He was guarded and cautious, but yet so…_gentle_. He had helped her into the lab, his warm hands carefully steering her through the many confusing corridors, and deposited her into one of the black leather chairs scattered about the room. As he turned away and began rifling through drawers, looking for a first aid kit, she looked down at the chair beneath her, swiveling back and forth experimentally.

_Ooh…_

Kicking her feet off of the ground she let herself spin around. She'd seen chairs like this from Asgard, and had probably visited Midgard since their creation, but had never had the opportunity to sit in one herself. It was, indeed, just as amusing as the humans had made it seem—if a bit dizzying.

A low chuckle from nearby made her plant her feet and come to an abrupt stop. She was facing the wall. Slowly, she turned, knowing that her guilt at being caught in such a childish act was written all over her face. She looked up at him sheepishly, and he gave her a wry smile. "Having fun?"

Her face grew hot. On the other side of the room, the Iron Man (Tony Stark, they had called him) was barely stifling his laughter. "I… It's been a long time since I last visited Midgard. If hey had these then, I never saw one."

Banner's brow raised at that. "You've been here before?" he asked, setting the kit in his hands down on one of the counters and opening it, searching for the tools he'd need.

She grinned. "I grew up here."

"You did?" He looked genuinely surprised, and approached her with a strange instrument.

She ignored his question, her curiosity getting the best of her. "Is that a stethoscope?"

He gave her a short nod, placing the ends in his ears. "It is. You've heard of it?"

She nodded, watching him carefully as he approached with the flat end. "What does it do?"

He placed it against her chest and she gasped, eyes wide as saucers. His touch was soft, and he spoke to her quietly as though comforting a child. "It lets me hear inside your body; your heartbeat, your lungs. I'll need you to breathe, now." She wasn't even aware that she'd been holding her breath. Were all mortal doctors like this? So careful and tender with their patients? Even when made aware of her parentage, the Asgardian healers had always handled her roughly on the blessedly few times she'd had to visit them.

She tried breathing steadily, but it was difficult with him in such close proximity, the man she had dreamed about. She could smell him; each breath treated her with the scent of sandalwood, spice, and musk. She fought off the desire to let her eyes close and get lost in that scent.

"I can hear your heartbeat," she whispered.

He pulled away, taking the stethoscope out of his ears. "Is that so?" He was entirely unaware of the effect he was having on her. Realizing this, she turned away from him, nodding her head softly.

He said nothing else. For a moment, the lab was silent save for the whirring and beeping of machines and Stark's tinkering off in the corner.

Sága closed her eyes tightly. She was being absolutely ridiculous. _Now_, who was acting like a pubescent Kauthos? It's just… She hadn't expected him to be so _handsome_…

Her eyes shot open again as she felt gentle pressure against her arm. Dr. Banner was wrapping some sort of dark fabric around her upper arm. "This measures your blood pressure," he told her softly, answering the question in her eyes.

"Oh." The round of cloth started to constrict around her arm. "Ow!" Instinctively, she reached up as if to pull it off, but he grabbed her hand and pulled it away.

"I'm sorry. It'll only hurt for a bit." She glanced up to tell him off, but found herself lost in his big brown eyes. She was distinctly aware of the way his hand was wrapped around her own. For that moment, time seemed to stand still, and it seemed that he felt it too.

And then the pressure on her arm got worse, and she flinched, and he dropped his eyes. "Sorry. I'm sorry," he muttered, lowering his head to take note of the gauge on the band. She could feel her face flush. What had just happened?

He quickly unwound that awful thing from her arm, clearing his throat as he turned away and replaced it to the kit. "Uh—so… So, your name's Sága, then?"

"Oh," she murmured. "Yes. Uh, it's Sághildr. Sága for short. My father is Heimdall, the guardian of the Bifrost."

He glanced at her over his shoulder, a corner of his mouth quirked up in what she assumed was supposed to be a smile. "Sorry, I'm not much acquainted with the stories."

She gave a short, breathy laugh, trying to clear the fog in her head. "It's alright. The Bifrost is the gate into Asgard, a portal to take us to the other realms. Well, it _was_… It's not there anymore."

He approached with a small flashlight in his hand. "Is that why you haven't, uh…'visited' in a while?"

She threw her head back and laughed at that. "No, that's not it. I am gifted with the ability to travel wherever I want to, with or without the Bifrost. I've just been…busy." She paused for a moment, trying not to dwell on the events of the past year. "But that's why I'm here now, I suppose. Not everyone is so lucky as me. Thor needed a… Well, he needed a lift."

His mouth quirked in a smile. "You brought him all the way from Asgard?" Without warning, he ignited the light and flashed it in her eyes. She recoiled with a snarl, knocking his hand away.

"I can see just fine, thank you," she spat, rubbing at her eyes with a frown. He wasn't looking so handsome anymore.

"I'm testing for a concussion, not checking your eyesight." He sounded wounded, and she felt a bit guilty for snapping at him.

"Yeah, well, that _hurts_. Don't you know a different test?"

He shrugged, putting the light away. One hand grabbed her chin, making her look him in the eye again. "I'd wager you can see better than 'just fine' if that little light can hurt you." He leaned in closer, and her breath caught in her throat. His rough hand felt so good against her skin, and, oh, she could smell him again…

She blinked, slowly, trying to get her sluggish mind to work. "My name means something like 'Far-seeing Warrior," she admitted softly. "So, yeah… I can see a bit better than just fine."

He kept his hand on her, staring into her eyes. Was she imagining things, or was his breathing as labored as her own, his heart beating faster than normal? She was glad that he didn't have that stethoscope anymore, so he didn't hear the way her own heart was racing, the blood pounding in her ears.

From across the room, a loud cough startled them both apart. Bruce released her as if she was on fire, and turned back to his kit. She glanced in the direction of the cough, catching Tony Stark's satisfied grin before he turned back to his computers. She knew her face must be bright red, and hung her head in the hope that Bruce might not notice.

"Well, you don't seem to have a concussion," he informed her, his voice a bit higher than normal. He was packing up the first aid kit. She was glad to be finished with these tests, though could not pretend to be glad at losing his undivided attention. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd stick around for a while, just to be sure. Sometimes symptoms don't manifest until much later."

He was deliberately avoiding her eyes; and while she understood the reason he gave, there was something that made her suspect that he wanted to keep her around. That suspicion made her grin.

"Alright. But I already told you, I just need rest."

That quirky grin was back. "I do hope you're right."

* * *

"Alright, this is all set up, it just needs to reboot," Tony informed him, raising his head from the mess of Stark tech he'd brought along with him. "I'm gonna head over to the mess, grab something to eat. You want anything?"

Blinking, Bruce considered the offer. "Coffee—_decaf_. Do you even know where it is?"

"Nope." He was already halfway out the door. "Does the girl want anything?"

They both turned to look at the woman, still seated in that black chair. One arm was laying across the tabletop, her head resting atop it. Her eyes were firmly closed, and she was snoring softly.

"Er—she's asleep," Bruce told him, stating the obvious. "But I'm sure she'll be hungry when she wakes up." He turned to look at Stark, but he was already gone, the door sliding shut behind him with a hiss.

He chuckled, turning back to his algorithm, when his eyes caught the jacket he'd tossed over the back of a chair. He glanced over at the girl, then back to his jacket. He wasn't currently using it…

Before he could talk himself out of it, he snatched up the jacket and strode over to her, draping it around her shoulders.

Her snoring stopped, and she shifted in her sleep. Her free hand grabbed at the collar of the jacket, pulling it tighter around her body.

With a smile, he passed a hand over her soft white hair, before walking back over to the computer he'd been using.

"Oh, you're in trouble now, Banner."


	7. I'll Be Alright

Author's Note: Can't stop won't stop! Gosh, you guys! I was **not** going to update again so soon. But nooooo, you guys just had to swoop in with your stupid, wonderful reviews! I'm pretty sure I'm never sleeping again until this story is finished. And _it's all your fault_. Don't feel too bad, though. This is way more fun than sleep! So! We've got a couple of dreams/memories of baby!Sága, a smidgen of Papa Heimdall, a bit more Bruce being adorable, and a surprise girl chat with Coulson! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Seven:_ I'll Be Alright_

_Sága prayed this was a dream._

_She had lived for so long, had seen so much. There was no way this could be real. She couldn't be seven years old again, running through the dirty streets of the village, running away from the dirty children. It felt like she'd been running for days._

_She looked up to the sky, hoping to see her father, hoping he would see her. She already knew he wouldn't, that he was off fighting some war with his king. He couldn't afford to spare a glance to Midgard, not even for his beloved daughter._

_She had already lived this day before, hadn't she? She prayed to whoever heard her that this was a dream, some twisted dream of one of her worst memories._

_She could remember her life, the one where she grew old—_so old_—and happy with her friend and his brother and her father. The one where she met the man she had dreamt of for so long, with his big warm hands and even bigger and warmer brown eyes. _

_But as she ran, that life seemed so distant and far away. And so much closer were the shouts and cries of the children behind her. _That_ life had been the dream. This, here, was the reality—the running and the fear and the pounding of her heart._

_Her bare foot caught on some rock, and she tumbled to the ground face-first. Had she known that was going to happen? No, she couldn't have. That life was the dream; this was reality._

_She thought about scrambling up to her feet but knew it would be futile, knew they would catch up to her before she could get away. She curled up into a ball on the ground, trying to make their target smaller as they circled around her, laughing and jeering and shouting. There were so many; it seemed like all of the children from the village had come out just for this. She did not cry, even as they boasted and argued about who would have the first swing at her, who would be the first to break her bones, who would be the first to make her bleed…_

_No, she would not cry. She would not give them the satisfaction._

_But she did squeeze her eyes shut as the oldest boy approached, a wicked grin on his face. She knew what was coming, knew he would aim a kick to her head that would cause her to see stars and feel a moment of numbness so much worse than the pain that would flood her after, when the rest joined in. She didn't want to see his boot approach, not this time._

_The waiting was the worst part._

_But the blow didn't come this time. Where she should have felt pain and sorrow, instead she just felt warmth, and an almost familiar scent flooded her senses—sandalwood and spice._

_When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer in the village, nor anywhere on earth. Now she was standing on the rainbow bridge, and father was pulling her up into his strong arms, and she was eight years old._

"_Sághildr, what are you doing here? How did you even get here?" Father was trying to use his stern voice, but he was too glad to see her, and a grin spread across his face and bled into his voice. She giggled, her feet dangling in the air as he clutched her against his chest, ruffling her already unruly black hair._

"_I wanted to see you, papa!"_

"_And I always want to see you, my darling. But how did you get here?"_

"_I don't know, papa. I just thought real hard about being here, and then I was. This isn't a dream, is it papa?"_

_He set her down on the ground and shook his head slowly. "No, this is no dream, Sága." She knew he was right. That sad, scared child in the village had been a dream, as well as that lonely, old woman. This, _this_ was reality. "Does your mother know you're here?"_

_She looked up at her father, afraid that she might have disappointed him somehow. But he did not look angry, just curious. "I suppose not…"_

"_And do you think you can send yourself back?"_

_She grinned. She knew she could. She could remember how to do it now, the exhilarating feel of her magic pulling her body apart and putting it back together somewhere else. This had only been the first time she'd done it, but she would do it so much more. It would be her greatest strength; she remembered that it would be. "Of course, papa!"_

_Father nodded slowly, reaching down to pat her head. "Then go back home and tell your mother what has happened. Tell her that I am taking care of it. And when you return, we will go together to the great King. He will know what to do."_

"_I will be back soon, papa!" It was true. She knew it would be true, because all of this had happened before. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. "I want to be back home with mama, at our little yellow cabin on the shore of the sea, with the flowers in the windows and the big blue door." As she spoke, she pictured the cabin in her mind. Though she couldn't see it now, she knew each word was leaving her mouth in a puff of white magic, the way it always would from now on. She felt it all around her, pulling her out of this realm and taking her wherever she wanted to be._

Sága opened her eyes, and for a moment forgot where she was. Why wasn't she back at the cabin, with mama, like she had said she would be? Why did her neck hurt so badly? Why did her world smell like sandalwood, and spice?

She sat up, looking around at the white room with all of the equipment she did not recognize nor understand. The chair beneath her moved, and she looked down in surprise.

With one look at the black leather swivel chair, it all came rushing back. This was reality. At least, she was pretty sure it was.

She rubbed at her eyes sleepily, surprised to find her hand was covered in a rough brown cloth that smelled like…

_Oh._

She tried to suppress a grin, as well as the urge to shove her face in the jacket and take a good whiff. But there was something else she smelled, from a little further away, that demanded her immediate attention. She stood to her feet, stretching her back and cracking her neck, before turning to the men on the other side of the lab.

Banner didn't look at her, his attention fully devoted to the screen in front of him; but Stark was grinning at her. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty."

She only had a very vague understanding of the reference, but grinned anyway. "Is that coffee I smell?"

Stark raised an eyebrow. "You have coffee in Asgard?"

She laughed. "Sadly, no. I haven't had coffee in, oh… 40, maybe 50 years?"

He let out a low whistle. "Long time."

"Tell me about it."

"Sorry, babe. I would have brought you the whole pot if I knew."

She smiled. "That's very kind of you, Mr. Stark. If you could just point me in the right direction, I'll bring it back myself."

"You can have mine," Banner called, glancing up.

"Are you sure?" Her voice was soft, and she could feel a blush creeping up her neck. She shouldn't be so intimidated by him; he'd been nothing but kind to her since they'd met. She pulled his blazer tighter around her body, wondering how a man so much smaller than Loki and Thor could make her feel so little and insignificant.

"Yeah, sure. I won't drink it. It's _not_ decaf," he shot with a sideways glance at Stark, who shrugged, not even trying to hide a smirk.

"What can I say? They must have mixed up the labels."

Ignoring him, Banner held out his cup toward her. She timidly stepped closer, reaching out to take it from him with a shy smile. "Well, if you're sure…" She pulled the Styrofoam cup close to her chest, reveling in the heavy aroma and the heat that warmed the palms of her hands. Glancing up, she realized they were both watching her closely. Stark openly stared, while Banner modestly dropped his eyes.

She raised the cup to her lips, feeling Banner's eyes on her yet again, and took a long sip.

"_Oh_…" It was an embarrassingly sensual moan, but she didn't care. "This is so much better than I remember!" She took another drink. "Thank you so much, Dr. Banner."

He was watching her with that strangely cautious, crooked smile that fit him so well. "Call me Bruce."

She nodded, taking another drink of coffee and trying to hide her blush behind the cup.

"You're wrong, that coffee is crap," Stark said a little too loudly, reminding them that he was still in the room. "After all this is over, you'll have to come by Stark Tower. I'll have Jarvis make you a real cup of coffee."

She had no idea who Jarvis was, but she grinned at his kind offer. She hadn't known people could be so kind; certainly not to her. "I would like that very much."

* * *

She ended up perched on the counter beside Bruce, sipping her coffee slowly in order to savor it, watching the two men work. It was amazing how well they could play off of each other. She certainly didn't understand most of what they said, but they made a valiant effort of explaining it to her. Bruce told her she caught on quicker than most would, but she wondered if he was just saying that to make her feel better.

Occasionally he would have to reach around her to grab something, leaning in close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body. Quietly, she would offer to move, and he would just as quietly tell her to stay. He would never look at her when he did this, though she could hardly tear her eyes away from him. And faintly, she would hear Tony from somewhere else in the lab, chuckling softly or whistling, deliberately feigning ignorance.

When her coffee was gone, she hopped down from the counter. She opened her mouth to ask Tony where he'd gotten the glorious drink from, when the door to the lab hissed open and Thor strode into the room, followed closely by a SHIELD agent.

Thor's face broke into a huge grin. "Sága! I take it you are feeling better, dear friend?"

His smile was infectious, and she nodded. "I am indeed."

He turned to Bruce. "Thank you, Doctor, for taking such good care of her."

Bruce nodded nervously, fidgeting with his fingers. "I didn't really—uh… You're welcome."

"I beg your pardon, Miss?" The small man beside Thor spoke up, stepping up to her and holding out his hand. "I'm Agent Coulson. I was wondering if I might have a word with you? In private?"

She shook his hand cautiously, wondering what on earth he could want with her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent Coulson. I was just on my way to find some more of this coffee," she told him, gesturing with her empty cup. "If you will show me the way, I'll gladly hear what you have to say."

"It would be my honor." With a short nod, he turned and headed for the door.

Before following, she glanced over at Bruce. He was watching her carefully, eyes filled with concern. She was a bit relieved to see that he looked as nervous as she felt, glad that she wasn't just being paranoid. "I'll be right back," she told him with an encouraging smile, showing confidence that she didn't feel. A corner of his mouth twitched upward in an attempt at a smile. It seemed he didn't quite believe her, but appreciated the attempt. She nodded, a kind of understanding passing between them, before following Agent Coulson through the door.

* * *

The man kindly allowed her to loop her arm through his as they walked. She knew it was no longer a common thing to do on earth, but it was on Asgard and had become familiar for her, and he did not push her away. He was of nearly the same height as she, which made it much more comfortable than walking with Loki, who towered over her. She forced away the memories of walking with her best friend through the golden city of Asgard, turning to address Agent Coulson.

"What is it you would like to talk about, sir?"

"Director Fury asked me to come speak with you. We're wondering what your plans are, after this is over."

She hesitated. "Mr. Stark has very kindly invited me over for a coffee. After that, I anticipate returning to Asgard with Princes Thor and Loki, that the latter might answer for his crimes."

Coulson nodded. She wondered if SHIELD would allow them to take Loki with them, but he made no mention of their plans. "Thor informed us that the Tesseract has the power to take someone to Asgard. Are you aware of that?" He tugged at her arm, guiding her around a corner.

"I am." Her voice was cautious. Where was this conversation going?

"There is a bit of an issue with that scenario. Namely, if we ever have need of your and Thor's assistance again, we are currently without a method of communicating with Asgard." He directed her through a doorway, into a sparsely occupied room full of long tables. Along one wall was a counter piled high with a vast assortment of prepackaged foods. They stepped up to a nearby alcove, a table covered in coffee pots and cups and sugar packets. "Thor has told us about your unique…abilities. If you were to, say, stay here on earth… Well, communication would no longer be much of an issue."

She turned his words over in her head, grabbing a cup and filling it with the delicious dark liquid before she gave a response. "You are asking me to abandon my father and my home and stay here instead, all for the possibility that you might sometime need me to get in touch with Thor for you?" Her words came out more bitterly than she had meant them to.

"No, ma'am. We're merely asking you to consider it." She placed the lid on her cup roughly. "It isn't as though you would have to stay here permanently. You could leave as often as you liked. SHIELD would house and employ you for the time you spent here." She closed her eyes briefly, thinking. "Please, Sághildr," his voice was barely more than a whisper, and he leaned in. She got the feeling that Director Fury had not asked him to beg. "We…have very limited options in this. And I believe it is a safe bet that we will have this need. Please consider it."

Her expression softened, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I promise you I will give your offer due consideration. If you'll excuse me, I can find my own way back to the laboratory." He nodded, and she turned to go, but hesitated. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled. "And please, call me Sága."

He grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

She walked back to the lab in a fog, letting her feet direct her more than her mind. Thor was no longer there when she got back, and she wondered briefly where he'd run off to, returning to her perch beside Bruce.

"What did he want?" Tony called, not looking up from an open file in his hands.

She smirked. "Oh, you know. Super secret girl talk. He wanted to know who does my hair, and then we talked about boys."

He glanced up, raising an eyebrow. She had a feeling he didn't much like being left out of the loop, but she wasn't going to tell him the truth. "Oh, so you told him all about Brucie?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, hoping to look intimidating and trying to keep the heat from rushing to her face. Beside her, Bruce coughed uncomfortably, bowing his head deeply. "Watch it, Stark," she shot, the words rushing out in a faint white mist that knocked the file from his hands, sending papers flying.

"Hey!"

She chuckled, watching him grudgingly pick up the pages. He cursed her under his breath, trying to get them back into order.

They were silent for some time, save for Tony's curses. Sága lifted the lid from her cup, staring into the black liquid as though it might give her answers.

A large hand covered hers, and she tried to stifle her gasp at the shock that traveled up her arm and down her spine. She looked up and found Bruce studying her intently. "Are you alright?"

She smiled, touched by his concern. "I will be."

He smiled in response, that crooked grin, and turned back to his screens with a nod. But his hand lingered on top of hers for just a moment longer.


	8. Your Only Hope

Author's Note: Hey, kids! Sorry for the delay. I had a difficult time figuring out how to write this one. I swear, I wrote it from three completely different perspectives before deciding to give this one to Bruce. I think I'm finally pleased with the end result. I'm really not much of a perfectionist at all, except when it comes to writing. I refuse to publish something that I personally wouldn't be interested in reading. So I hope you all can forgive me for uploading this one a bit late, knowing that it was all done in the name of giving you guys a quality product.

I'm getting pretty bored with all of the sitting around and talking and stuff. I need action! And I think that Sága kind of shares my anxiety, as you'll see in a bit. Oh, I'm excited to present to you slightly-annoyed!Sága, because it's going to make genuinely-pissed-off!Sága so much more fun! Oh, yes!

Hey, and I should let you guys know that I've uploaded the first chapter of a new story, a companion piece to this, called Alone Together. I probably won't be focusing on that one much until this is finished, but it'll be a dumping ground for all of the Loki/Sága backstory I can't fit in here. It's in the Thor tag, and if you check it now you'll get to see the (very short) story of their very first meeting.

Also, before I shut up and let you read the chapter, I just wanted to mention that if you're interested in hearing Heimdall's half of the conversation, just let me know. I can PM it to you; or, if I get enough requests, I'll just add it to the Note in the next chapter. You'll see what I mean here in a bit. Hope you enjoy this one! I worked really hard on it, and I'm feeling pretty proud.

* * *

Chapter Eight: _Your Only Hope_

At first, Sága's swift pacing had set Bruce on edge. But she'd been at it for nearly an hour now, and her quick, rhythmic footsteps had become familiar. It was almost soothing, in a way, though clearly not for her. He glanced away from the equations on his screen—readouts from the spectrometer in Finland—to watch her go. She had her head down, brow furrowed, fists clenched tightly at her sides. Whatever Coulson had said to her, it was causing her obvious distress.

His gaze drifted down her body. She was tall for a woman, with long legs that carried her quickly across the length of the lab. He tried not to stare at her legs…

Her body was all smooth lines and gentle curves, her movements liquid and rolling like a cat's. She was dressed in leather leggings and a cotton tunic, bound by more leather and bits of metal armor all over—and she still had his blazer draped over her shoulders, flowing behind her like a cape as she walked. She made it difficult not to stare, at least for him. While her outfit covered her modestly, it was nothing like what he was used to. In Calcutta, the women had worn mostly loose, flowing fabrics to stave off the heat. Nothing close-fitting; and certainly no leather pants.

Suddenly, the pattern of her footsteps ceased and she froze, listening. He dropped his gaze back to the screen, pretending not to have just been staring at her legs.

He tried to ignore her, typing in the passwords Stark had "acquired" and recalibrating the spec's trajectory. She brushed past him and strode up to the large window that made up a whole wall of the laboratory. "I'm here."

What? He looked over at Stark, who was staring at her with a brow raised.

"Ugh. You _saw_ that?" Was she talking to herself? He glanced over his shoulder. She propped her elbow up on the railing, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "I'm so embarrassed. But I'm fine, now. Just needed some rest." Yep. Definitely talking to herself. She sighed heavily. "When _isn't_ he? But I have great faith in these humans." Another pause. Bruce glanced over to Tony, who just shrugged his shoulders with a frown. "He does not look well. Yes." If she was talking to someone, whatever they said next appeared to upset her. She pressed her face into her hands, and her shoulders heaved with labored breaths.

Bruce frowned, taking his glasses off and nervously fidgeting with them in his hands. "Sága?"

She whirled, eyes wide. It seemed she'd forgotten they were there. Behind him, Tony spoke up. "Who're you, uh… Who're you talking to?"

"Oh. Erm…" She gestured vaguely toward the window. "My father."

"Your father?" Stark sounded incredulous. "In Asgard?"

She crossed her arms over her chest—don't look at her chest!—and leaned her hip against the railing—don't look at her hips!—with a hearty chuckle. "You really know nothing of the stories, do you?" She cleared her throat. "The great guardian Heimdall was appointed to his position on account of his ability to see and hear nearly all that occurs in the nine realms; abilities that his only daughter was lucky enough to inherit."

Bruce glanced at the screen he was working on. The spectrometer was still realigning, so he left it alone and stepped up beside Sága to stare out the window, straining his eyes to see anything in this darkness. He had no idea what time it was, and there was no telling how many time zones they'd crossed. Wherever they were, the night was pitch black, with only a few stars shining through the clouds. "You can really see another planet from here?"

She turned to face the window with a heavy sigh. "I can see _everything_ from here. Look," she leaned toward him, brushing her shoulder against his and pointing out into the darkness. "Through there is Muspelheim, the home of the Fire Giants; and north of it is Niflheim, the land of ice. Not to be confused, of course, with Jotunheim, the land of the Frost Giants, which is…" She glanced around, then pointed off in another direction. "There." Her arm dropped. "At least, what's left of it…" Bruce's gaze seemed to drift toward her of their own accord. Her eyes were so full of regret, and he could only wonder what had happened to this…_Jotunheim_. She brightened up, pointing somewhere else, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from hers. "Anyway, through there is Asgard, and my father, watching as always from his post at the end of the rainbow road."

She turned to him, a small smile on her face, but froze when she saw how close their faces were to each other, her eyes widening.

He cleared his throat, pretending he wasn't totally intoxicated by the warmth of her shoulder against his. "So, what you said before about hearing my heartbeat... You really can hear it?"

She nodded slowly, before pulling away from him and turning her back to the window. "Sure I can. Yours; Stark's; Director Fury's, up at the helm of this ship… I can hear trees growing. I can hear stars burning."

"Sounds exhausting," Tony commented with a shrug.

Was it just him, or did her laughter sound a bit forced, and was her face flushed a bit darker than usual? "It can be," she was saying. "I've learned to ignore the things I don't need to see or hear. I've had plenty of years to practice."

"Yeah? What other tricks you got?" Stark's tone was sarcastic, but there was no denying his interest.

"Oh, I've a few more up my sleeve, Mr. Stark. I'm sure you'll see them in time."

Bruce let his gaze linger for a moment longer, before pushing himself away from the window and heading back to his work. He jabbed at the screen viciously, scrolling through Finland's latest readout.

What the hell was he doing? God, he was always such a sucker for a pretty face. Any time a woman showed him the slightest bit of interest, he was smitten. It was absolutely ridiculous. He was acting like a child. 'You're here to find the Tesseract, Banner,' he reminded himself. '_Nothing_ more. And anyway, she's not interested. How could she be? She's just fascinated by the beast who _makes plays he's still a man_.'

He took a deep breath, trying to soothe the other guy's rage. He needed to keep it together, especially with Stark's growing interest in getting him to lose control. It wouldn't do to start smashing things, not here. Not before they'd found the Tesseract. Hopefully not _after_ that, either.

Maybe he _should_ ask them to lock him up in that cage; let off a little steam somewhere he couldn't hurt anyone. Somewhere he couldn't hurt Sága.

The thought startled him, and he looked up, his eyes finding her immediately. She'd taken up that pacing again, and he closed his eyes, letting the soothing rhythm of her footsteps wash over him like a balm.

When he opened his eyes again, he found that he'd made it to the end of Finland's results, but hadn't retained a single word of it. Sighing, he scrolled up to the beginning, starting all over again.

"Get it together, Banner," he murmured softly.

It was only after he'd said it that he remembered about Sága's exceptional hearing. He didn't bother looking up; didn't need to, to know that she was looking at him.

* * *

Bruce didn't look up from his work until much later, when the door to the lab slid open and Agent Romanov stepped into the room. She stood like a well-trained soldier, feet spread apart and hands clasped behind her back. The other guy growled threateningly, and Bruce allowed himself a scowl. She had lied about putting him in a cage, and he wouldn't readily forget about that.

Romanov was eyeing Sága closely, who didn't seem to care for the scrutiny. The dark-skinned woman raised her chin, peering down her nose at the much smaller woman. "May I help you, Agent Romanov?"

"I'm here to speak with you about Loki."

Stark turned to Bruce, throwing his hands up from whatever he was working on. "Why doesn't anyone come here to speak with _us_? We have important things to say, too."

Both women ignored him. "What do you want to know?"

Romanov loosened her stance, crossing her arms over her chest, though she still seemed as tightly wound as a coil. "Well, we could start with your relationship with the prisoner. Why did Thor say he wouldn't hurt you?"

Bruce had noticed that as well, and was curious to hear the answer. Sága's stance was much more relaxed and her expression was neutral, but there was a cautious, calculating look in her eye. "Loki is my friend, one of the very few I have. I am…probably the _only_ friend he would claim to have. We have much history. I do not believe he would willingly hurt me; but, then again, I have never so directly opposed him before."

"So that's what you're doing? Opposing him?"

Sága's golden eyes flashed dangerously. "In this endeavor, yes."

"In _this_ endeavor?"

"I do not much like your tone, Agent Romanov." Sága's voice was soft and light, her stance still loose and fluid; but all the more threatening because of it. "Earth was my home once; and though it was never kind to me, I will protect it, even from my best friend. But he _is_ my best friend, and if that bothers you, well… I don't know how you wish me to prove myself."

With a smirk, Natasha uncrossed her arms. "Well, I can think of something…"

The other guy growled, not fond of her tone. Sága narrowed her eyes, annoyance pouring off of her deceptively neutral countenance. "Continue."

"If you were to…_speak_ with Loki, get him to tell us his plan, offer to help him, perhaps, in return for—"

"No."

There was silence in the lab as the two women stared each other down. Natasha's hand drifted to her side, hovering above the handgun holstered there. "I beg your pardon?"

Sága raised one arm, pretending to be examining her nails with nonchalance. "You claim that Loki is the bad guy here. But then you ask me to betray his friendship and manipulate his affection? You ask me to use his own tactics against him? No. I will do no such thing."

"You will not help us put an end to Loki's schemes?" Natasha ground out, grabbing the gun at her side.

"_Not like that!_" Sága spat the words out of her mouth, and they seemed to hang in front of her face in some sort of strange, white light. Startled, Natasha drew her weapon; but by the time it was raised, her target had vanished.

Before anyone had time to register what happened, Sága was standing behind her, a pale white sword pressed against the back of her neck, and Romanov's gun was _in her hand_. The assassin actually seemed shaken, though Bruce couldn't be certain that it wasn't an act.

Stark took a careful step forward, hands raised nonthreateningly. "Alright, ladies; let's keep this civil. As sexy as I'm sure it would be to watch you two fight it out, this is a lab. We've got delicate, uh…" he trailed off for a moment, glancing at Bruce, "_e__quipment_ here. No need for this to get out of hand." Bruce scowled at being referred to as "equipment", the other guy roaring to be let out and show them all just how "delicate" he was. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, just as Sága did the same thing.

She stepped back, removing the blade and lowering it to her side. Even with her unusual height, the tip would have easily reached the ground if she did not angle it out. "My apologies, Agent Romanov," she began, holding out the gun handle toward the other woman. "I do not wish to fight you. I am a bit on edge; as, I suppose, are we all." Natasha grabbed the gun and returned it to her holster, eyeing Bruce carefully. He knew he was in control at the moment, but sent a scowl her way, liking the way her eyes widened a fraction in fear. Maybe that would keep her from waving a gun at his—er…at Sága. "I am sorry to have quarreled with you. But I will not do this thing you ask."

Romanov nodded, her eyes darting between Sága and Bruce. She seemed thoroughly out of her element here. "Alright. If you won't do it, then I'll speak with the prisoner. Perhaps you would consider advising me on what to expect?"

Sága looked her over thoughtfully. With a wave of her hand, the pale blade dissipated in some sort of mist—alright, magic sword, cool—and stepped past her to where she'd been standing before, bending to pick his blazer up off the ground. It must have fallen off in the scuffle. He tried to ignore the pounding of his heart when she slid her arms through the sleeves, pulling it tight around her body. The jacket had been too big for him, and it looked almost comical on her, her fingers barely poking out of the sleeves.

"Loki is a master of manipulation," Sága began, eyeing the shaken assassin. "If he has your friend under the Tesseract's power, then he will surely know everything about you. And I mean _everything_, Agent Romanov. He will use every weakness you have in order to break you. It is foolishness to pretend that you have none, or that your fears do not frighten you. That will only amuse him."

She strode forward, standing before the smaller woman and peering down at her. "You must therefore be thoroughly, intimately, and acutely aware of every weakness you possess, as I guarantee he will be also. Know that he knows what keeps you awake at night. Anticipate everything he could possibly say to harm you, as I assure you _he will say it_. Be prepared for what he will do to you; if you expect it, it cannot harm you. Much. That is your only hope."

Natasha nodded her head, jaw firmly set, all evidence of her recent discomfort gone. She was again the picture of a perfect soldier. "Sounds easy enough. Thank you for your cooperation." She turned to leave, but stopped when Sága called her name.

"Agent Romanov!" She raised her right arm across her chest, hand above her heart, and lowered her head in a kind of bow. "Good luck." Natasha looked surprised, but nodded in return before quickly exiting the lab and disappearing down the hallway.

Slowly, Sága straightened up and turned to face he and Stark. "I am sorry for disrupting your work, sirs."

Bruce shot her a smile. "It's alright."

"You have a magic sword, huh?" Obviously, Tony was hung up on that.

She grinned. "Yes." The word again left her mouth in that white light, but this time the light seemed to solidify, morphing into the shape of the sword, and she grasped it in her hand. "Isn't it lovely? It was crafted for me by Agnr the Wild. The old witch was the only one who would forge a sword for Heimdall's mortal-born whelp; she sold it to me for a lock of hair and a song." She gazed down at the blade with great pride; and though her words were a bit cruel, her tone was fond when she spoke of the witch.

"So…can I hold it?"

She laughed at Tony's inevitable next question, expertly tossing it up in the air and catching it by the blade, holding the hilt out to him. He reached forward, but as soon as he touched it the whole thing disappeared into mist again. "…No." She grinned, and even Bruce found himself chuckling at the disappointed look on Stark's face. "Sorry. It was my hair and my song; only I can wield my sword."

Disgruntled, Tony crossed his arms over his chest and returned to his workstation. "It's a stupid sword anyway," he grumbled.

Still laughing, Sága ran a hand through her hair before turning to look at Bruce. He smiled, and she grinned back, moving around to his side of the counter. He looked down at his workspace, wondering how it had gotten so messy in the past couple of hours. He grabbed a stack of files, dropping them on top of an already-towering stack, clearing a space. Glancing over at her, he patted the newly cleared spot on the counter.

With another grin—and what was _definitely_ a blush—Sága hopped up and resumed her seat beside him. Where she should be.

Even the other guy had no objections to that.


	9. Revenge

Author's Note: Wow, check this out! I'm actually uploading a chapter before midnight! This must be a new record... Oh my gosh, guys! I'm sorry for those of you who are craving action, but there needs to be just a tiny bit more exposition before the pace really picks up. You guys seem entirely too content shipping Bruce/Sága. Meanwhile I am morally and emotionally conflicted because _Loki_. So, here you go. Another chapter from Loki's perspective, and I hope it causes you as much emotional turmoil as it does me. Muahahahahahaha!

One more note before I go: In this chapter, I've referenced one of Loki's duplicates as a vardoger. It's sort of the Norse interpretation of a doppleganger. While I realize there are several differences between the two, I still thought it was a really cool name and I'm gonna stick with it, so there. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Chapter Nine: _Revenge_

Loki Laufeyson was _bored_. And these simpering mortals had no idea how dangerous his boredom could be.

Their pride was delightful, the way they believed they had beaten him by putting him in this cage, as though he could not escape. As though he could not simply magic himself out of this place as easily as breathing. As though a few walls of glass could possibly hinder him.

That had amused him for a while; but stupidity could only amuse for so long before it just became pathetic.

For a while, he had considered leaving a vardoger there in the cell, disguising himself as a SHIELD agent, and going for a stroll. It would be easy enough to accomplish, and would allow him a better assessment of his would-be captors.

But Sághildr was here, and she was always so adept at seeing through his illusions. If he were to wander through her annoyingly exceptional field of vision, she would surely put an end to his fun.

He had begun pacing then.

She wasn't even supposed to _be here_, dammit!

She should still be at home with her stupid, useless father in Asgard.

But it wasn't her home, not really; no more than it was his own. Asgard had never been home to them, had never been comforting nor made them feel safe. The two of them had been that for each other.

He stopped pacing for a moment. Had he really believed that she would stay in that hideous place, knowing he was here? Sure, he had expected Odin to forbid her from coming; but since when had Sága been anything close to obedient? Since when had she allowed someone to tell her where she should be?

Shooting a dark look around his cell, he resumed pacing. He should have at least realized that the best way to ensure Sága's presence somewhere was to tell her she could not go.

It didn't matter, he assured himself. Soon, his plan would begin to come to fruition. These supposed heroes would be crippled and scattered, if they survived at all. And Sága would either join him, or…

He decided that the "or" didn't even bode thinking about. She _would_ join him. He would make her see reason, make her understand. He deserved to sit on the throne, and he would be a fair and just ruler. She, of all people, would certainly see that.

She had always told him how much better suited for the throne of Asgard he was than Thor. Even when he did not desire it for himself, when he was content to concede that power to his "brother", she had tried to make him see just how unfit Thor was to wear the crown. He had not believed her, until he had the chance to wear that crown for himself, to sit upon that throne, and to see that Thor's ego would have destroyed them all. His selfishness and arrogance would have been their undoing.

These people, these poor lost things, needed someone to rule them, someone to guide them. They needed a king who knew what it was to be considered weak, who could show them how to make themselves strong. Loki would be that king.

And Sága would join him. She would be at his side, right where she belonged, forever. Of course, she would understand. She had always known he should be king.

"_Not like that!_"

The sound shook him to the core, and he froze mid-step, leg hanging in the air. That had been her voice, and it was almost as if…

No. He had only been thinking, had said nothing out loud. She could not have heard him.

Setting his foot down, he turned in a slow circle, looking around the cell for any sign of change. There was none. But he could sense Sága's magic, from far off in the belly of this metal beast. Someone had apparently made her angry.

He chuckled darkly, relaxing his shoulders and releasing the tension from his momentary panic. Whoever had angered her, he knew they would soon regret doing such a thing. The daughter of Heimdall was a strong warrior and a fearsome opponent in battle. Her anger was not easily quelled.

He continued his trek about the cage, simply waiting. They would be here for him soon. His patience was wearing thin.

Sága would make a great queen, he decided. And, surely, she would be his queen. Especially once he had gained control of the great green beast, and bestowed it to her as a wedding gift.

The creature had fascinated her for several years. She never had much interest in the telling of tales, but for some reason _his_ made her golden eyes shine with excitement, no matter how many times it was told. The beast's strength was supposedly unmatched; it would make it that much more thrilling when Loki used the power of the Tesseract to bring him under his control.

Sága would not be fond of such methods, he was certain. But it would only be for a time. Just long enough for the creature to become obedient, and to understand its new purpose. Then, its generous master would relinquish his hold over it, and give the beast to his beautiful bride.

Sága _would_ have him, there was no doubt about that. He knew she loved him.

Oh, how she had broken his heart, all those years ago, when she requested they ceased their intimacy. But he knew, had always known, that she would come back to him one day. And now he knew that day was coming.

He heard footprints that were not his own. Ah, Agent Romanoff was here to see him.

She was stepping lightly and cautiously, thinking that she might take him by surprise. He hid a smirk at the thought, pretending not to see or hear her, letting her have her fun. She would think herself oh so clever.

Her red hair reminded him of someone. It took a moment to remember; eventually the face returned to him, though the name never did.

Sága had allowed him one last time, after telling him she wished their relationship to be platonic again. She gave him one last night together, after everything, for him to commit her body and soul to memory. And he had used every minute of it. It was, unquestionably, the greatest gift he had ever received.

But in the morning, he woke to find himself alone in the bed. She had gone off to Midgard, hiding herself even from her father. Though Loki had followed her and looked for her, he did not find her.

It was several months before she returned to Asgard, and he had attended her welcome-home feast with that redhead on his arm.

She had been attractive, he supposed, in her own way. Her skin was much too pale, and her eyes were much too dark; but she had served her purpose.

He had hoped that seeing him with another woman would make Sága see, make her remember, make her realize that they would always belong together. But she had been genuinely happy to see that he had moved on, that he wasn't upset about the way she'd left. As always, she completely upset his best-laid plans.

After the feast, that woman whose name he did not know had followed him to his chambers. "I don't know why you're so fond of that mortal girl," she had said. "She is so homely, and small. Completely average, and horribly uninteresting."

As though his anger at Sága's indifference hadn't been enough, his rage at this far-inferior creature's words was immeasurable. But he had simply smiled, and led her inside to the bed. She thought she had won him over.

Instead, he took her viciously, not allowing her any sort of satisfaction; and when he was done, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "You are _nothing_ compared to her."

It had been the sweetest revenge.

He remembered her tears as he kicked her out of his bed and chambers and, smirking, turned to face Agent Romanoff. "There's not many people who can sneak up on _me_." Oh, and now she believed herself one of them…

"Oh, yes. I got to see your girlfriend's little trick. She's very good at _sneaking_."

He grinned. Oh, this was Christmas! She thought she could get him to reveal something, calling Sághildr his girlfriend. And, even better, she revealed herself to be the one to have argued with Sága. She had just signed her own death warrant, and was completely oblivious to it. "I'm surprised you came to see me now, darling," he purred. This one would be as much fun to toy with as that other redhead had been.

"But you figured I'd come."

"After. After whatever tortures Fury could concoct, you would appear as a friend. As a balm. And I would cooperate."

"I wanna know what you've done to Agent Barton."

Oh, yes. Her little friend. He had almost forgotten about him, almost forgotten about the things he had told him. _Almost_. "I'd say I've expanded his mind," he assured.

Oh, the look she gave him… She didn't seem to like that answer. "And once you've won, once you're 'king of the mountain', what happens to his mind?" She crossed her arms, trying to look imposing.

"Ooh, is this love, Agent Romanoff?"

"Love is for children. I owe him a debt."

He took several steps backwards, seating himself on the poor excuse for a cot SHIELD had so graciously provided. "Tell me," he encouraged, as though he didn't know all about this debt.

She looked surprised and hesitant, but told him all the same, taking her own seat. "Before I worked for SHIELD, I, uh… Well, I made a name for myself. I have a very specific skill set. I didn't care who I used it for. Or on. I got on SHIELD's radar in a bad way. Agent Barton was sent to kill me. He made a different call."

"And what will you do if I vow to spare him?"

"Not let you out."

"Ha! No, but I _like_ this." He leaned forward, eager to play with this new toy. "Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?"

"Regimes fall every day. I tend not to weep over that; I'm Russian. Or, I was."

Hmm… "And what are you know?"

She rose to her feet, approaching the glass. "It's really not that complicated. I've got red in my ledger. I'd like to wipe it out."

Oh, the poor, misguided child. "Can you?" he asked, with his best innocently conciliatory face. "Can you wipe out _that much _red? Drakoff's daughter? Sao Paolo? The hospital fire? Barton told me everything." He stood as well, rapidly approaching the glass and towering over her, reminding her of her place. "Your ledger is _dripping_. It's _gushing_ red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself with _change_ anything? This is the basest sentimentality. This is a childhood prayer. _Pathetic_," he spat, adoring the way her eyes filled with fear, realization sinking in. "You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate; to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they're a part of you. And they will _never go away._" He slammed his fist up against the glass, making her cower back in fear. "I wouldn't touch Barton; not until I make him _kill_ you. Slowly. Intimately. In every way he knows you fear. And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams _I'll split his skull!_" She turned away from him, hiding her face in her hands in fear. Oh yes, he had her. "_This is my bargain, you mewling quim_."

In between sobs, she spat out, "You're a monster!"

That made him laugh. Oh, these pathetic mortals. "Oh, no. _You_ brought the monster."

Suddenly, she raised her head and spun around. "So. Banner. That's your play."

Wait… "What?"

She raised a hand to her ear and hurried away. "Loki means to release the Hulk. Keep Banner in the lab. I'm on my way." She hesitated, turning back to face him. "Thank you," she said with a little bow, "for your cooperation."

Surprised and enraged, Loki watched her leave from the center of his cell. She had been _acting_?

With a snarl, he turned away. It did not matter. Barton and the others would be here soon, long before these fools were able to contain that beast. It would rip this aircraft apart from the inside out, with its bare hands.

And Loki Laufeyson would have his revenge.


	10. Chaos

Author's Note: Hello! I changed my name! Hope that doesn't throw you; I promise it's the same person. BanditLumia was the name I'd been using since high school, and I was bored with it. Now that I'm no longer afraid of people on the internet, I'm not afraid to tell you my real name. So hi! I'm TheAngryTori! Feel free to follow me on Twitter or Tumblr (I reblog a lot of Avengers stuff, so you might be interested) if you'd like. It's the same name for all three. And if you do, please send me a message or something to let me know, because I'd love to meet you! I'm not sure if you're aware, but I consider each of you to be a personal friend because you read my story. But it'll make our friendship so much easier if I know your names!

Also, I'm sorry for the long break between chapters (again). I meant to have this one ready a couple of days ago, but I have been insanely busy. I also apologize for any possible spelling/grammar errors in this, because I am insanely tired as well. I made it longer than usual; hopefully that'll make up for the delay, the errors, and the trauma I put you guys through in the previous chapter! I hope you enjoy!

**Edit: **Reposting this, with (hopefully) all of the errors edited out. As Fishy Rainboots very kindly and graciously pointed out (and thank you a million times over for doing so!), I accidentally used the wrong form of "your". After wallowing in shame and embarrassment until it was all I could think about, I decided to go through and edit. Sorry to those of you who have this on Alert, and thought you were getting a new chapter. But take heart; I plan on having the next one up later tonight!

* * *

Chapter Ten: _Chaos_

Tony had given her her own package of blueberries.

They weren't quite the same as she remembered. These had, apparently, been purposely dried. The process made them chewy and a bit tough, not soft and bursting with juice as she remembered them to be. But the flavor was the same: cool and sweet and reminiscent of every good memory she had of Earth. While they had not been around in her youth, they had quickly become a favorite during her many visits to Midgard, and she had been unaccountably happy to find them here on this ship.

She munched slowly and happily, swiveling back and forth in the black chair she had moved to when Bruce's counter had become too crowded. She watched them work in silence, fascinated by these men and their capacity to understand such complex ideas. They moved about the lab with such purpose, seeming to know what the other would need without having to ask.

Banner was so different when he worked; no longer timid and cautious, but confident in his abilities and certain of every one of his actions. The tales credited to him a genius uncommon for his race. She had assumed it to be an exaggeration, as the Storytellers were known for such embellishments. But now she believed, if anything, it was an understatement of the truth. She wondered how much else the tales had told truly, and was filled with a desire to witness his strength for herself.

Therefore she made no objection as she watched Stark sneak up behind him with a screwdriver and jab the tip into his side.

"Ow!" Bruce shot him a half-hearted glare, only slightly annoyed by Stark's attempts to provoke him.

"Hey, are you nuts?" Captain Rogers did not seem nearly as amused as she was by his antics as he entered the lab.

Stark ignored him entirely. "You really do have a lid on it, don't you? What's your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? Huge bag of weed?"

Sága nearly choked on a blueberry as the captain continued his reprimand. "Is everything a _joke_ to you?"

"Funny things are."

"Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn't funny. No offense, Doc."

"Yeah, i-it's alright. I wouldn't have come aboard if I couldn't handle…pointy things," Bruce assured, continuing with his work and pretending not to be a part of this.

"You're tiptoeing, big man," Tony laughed. "You need to strut."

"And you need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark."

"You think I'm not? ...Why did Fury call us in? Why _now_? Why not before? What isn't he telling us? I can't do the equation unless I have all the variables."

"You think Fury's hiding something?" Rogers was feigning disbelief, but there was something in his tone that sounded like a hint of doubt.

"He's a _spy_," Tony said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Captain, he's _the_ spy. His secrets have secrets." He tossed a handful of berries into his mouth before gesturing toward Bruce. "It's buggin' him, too, isn't it?"

"Uhh…" Bruce looked very much like he wanted to disappear. "I-I just wanna finish my work here, and…"

"Doctor?" Rogers interrupted.

Bruce glanced to Sága for help, but she merely shrugged, also interested in what he had to say. He sighed, removing his glasses. "…A 'warm light for all mankind'. Loki's jab at Fury about the cube…"

"I heard it."

"Well, I think that was meant for you." He pointed at Tony, who in turn offered him the bag of blueberries. Taking a few, Bruce continued, "Even if Barton didn't tell Loki about the tower, it was still all over the news."

"The Stark Tower? That big, ugly…" Tony glared. "…building in New York?"

Sága glanced out the window. Yes, she could see it from here. It certainly was big, though she knew far too little of Midgardian architecture to be able to deem it ugly or not. "It's powered by an Arc Reactor, a self-sustaining energy source," Bruce was saying, fidgeting with his watch. "That building will run itself for, what, a year?"

"That's just a prototype. I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now," Tony told Rogers. "That's what he's getting at."

"Wait…" Sága began, starting to catch up with what they were saying. "SHIELD's been trying to develop this 'clean' energy through the Tesseract. So why didn't they ask for your help?"

Tony grinned, snatching up another packet of blueberries from the countertop and tossing it to her. She caught it with ease, shamelessly tearing into it with childlike excitement.

"Exactly!" Bruce agreed, with a quick smile her way. "And what's SHIELD doing in the energy business in the first place?"

"I should probably look into that," Tony began, walking away from Bruce and back over to his main workstation, "Once my decryption program finishes breaking into all of SHIELD's secure files."

Captain Rogers did _not_ look pleased. "I'm sorry, did you say—"

"Jarvis has been running it since I hit the bridge. As _well_ as a search on you, hon," Tony added, turning and pointing at Sága, "but we'll get to that later." She flushed, uncomfortable with the attention. Whoever this Jarvis was, he seemed to have a great many talents. "In a few hours, I'll know every dirty secret SHIELD has ever tried to hide. Blueberry?"

"Yet you're confused as to why they didn't want you around," Rogers shot.

"An intelligence agency that _fears_ intelligence?" he asked, lowering the offered bag. "Historically: not awesome."

"I think Loki's trying to wind us up. This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don't stay focused, he'll succeed." The captain glanced at Bruce, hoping for his support. "We have orders. We should _follow_ them."

"Following's not really my style," Tony said, nonchalant.

"And you're all about style, aren't you?" Sága couldn't see Tony's face from here, but she didn't really need to to know he would rise to the challenge.

"Of the people in this room, which one is a) wearing a spangly outfit and b) not of use?"

"I'm not really much use…" Sága offered, slowly raising her hand.

Tony turned to her with a grin. "Yeah, but still not spangly. And _he_ thinks you're cute, so you stay," he added with a wink, gesturing toward Bruce.

She could feel her face flush a dark red, and Bruce coughed awkwardly, fidgeting with his watch again. "Steve," he said, pretending that hadn't just happened, "Tell me none of this smells a little funky to you?"

The captain seemed conflicted, glancing from Tony to Bruce and back. "Just find the cube," he reminded them, turning and exiting the lab.

Sága watched him go. Through the window, she saw him stop, hesitate, and then turn and head in the opposite direction. What was he up to..?

"_That's _the guy my dad never shut up about? Wondering if they shouldn't have kept him on ice." Tony sounded bitter; it was a tone she recognized, a tone Thor often employed whenever someone had bruised his mighty ego.

"The guy's not wrong about Loki, though. Neither were you," Bruce said with a very quick glance in Sága's direction. He seemed to be having just as difficult a time of looking at her as she was at him, making her wonder if Stark's earlier words might be true… "He _does_ have the jump on us."

"What he's got is an Acme dynamite kit," Tony said, moving from one computer to another. "It's gonna blow up in his face. And I'm going to be there when it does."

"Yeah? I'll read all about it."

"Uh-huh. Or you'll be suiting up with the rest of us."

Bruce's laugh was humorless. "Nah, you see… I don't get a suit of armor. I'm exposed. Like a nerve. It's a nightmare."

Sága frowned. She hadn't thought about that. None of the stories ever mentioned how vulnerable he was.

"You know, I've got a cluster of shrapnel in my chest, trying every second to crawl its way into my heart. This stops it," Tony said, tapping the light in the center of his chest, glowing through the dark shirt. "This little circle of light is a part of me now. Not just armor. It's a…terrible privilege." He stepped up to the other side of Bruce's computer, looking at him through the transparent screen.

"But _you _can control it."

"Because I learned how."

"It's different," Bruce told him, turning back to his work.

Frustrated, Tony swiped at the screen, clearing it. "Hey. I read all about your 'accident'. That much gamma exposure should have killed you."

"So you're saying that the Hulk—the _other guy_ saved my life? That's nice. That's a nice sentiment. Saved it for…what?"

"I guess we'll find out," Stark answered, heading back over to his desk.

"You may not enjoy that," Bruce told him, trying to return to his work.

"And you just might."

Sága spun her chair around to face the window, feeling as though she had just intruded on a very personal moment.

She tossed a handful of berries into her mouth, watching and listening to a star implode near Vanaheim, and trying not to wonder whether Bruce actually thought she was "cute".

* * *

After nearly an hour of silent working, Bruce stepped away from his screen with a clap and a smile. "That should do it!"

Sága stood quickly, sending the chair spinning behind her as she peered over his shoulder, trying to understand what he was seeing on that screen. "You've found it?"

His confidence was gone instantly, and he stepped away from her, fidgeting with his glasses and not making eye contact. "Uh, w-well, not quite. But, uh… This will find it."

"How?"

He moved back to her side, pointing at a long string of numbers and symbols. "So radioactive material gives off a unique level of radiation, right?" She nodded, remembering his attempt to explain that earlier. "Well this is the radiation signature that we took from the scepter, which should be the same as the signature of the Tesseract. All of these," he gestured to the rest of the screen, "are the spectrometers from around the world. Right now, we've got them scanning for this particular signature. Once they find it, so will we."

She grinned, finding herself quite fond of the look of pride on his face as he spoke of his work. "That's wonderful!" He turned to her with that crooked smile of his.

"In the meantime," Tony piped up, standing on the opposite side of the screen and eyeing her through the glass, "let's talk about you!"

She backed away cautiously, heading back toward her chair. "I… Whatever do you mean?"

"Oh, don't act coy with me," he teased, pulling the small piece of tech called a cell phone from his pocket, tossing it from one hand to the other. "Your dad's a god, right? And you grew up here? So where are all the stories about you? Why can't Jarvis find anything?"

She sat heavily, choosing her words carefully. "Because there _are_ no stories about me. And if there are, they've been...re-appropriated for someone much more desirous of glory than I. In Asgard, they call me 'Sághildr the Shy'. I do not crave attention as the others do; and certainly not from humans." She glanced between Tony and Bruce. "No offense; you both have been very good to me. But my history on earth has been particularly unpleasant."

"How so?"

She bristled at Stark's prying. "That is personal, sir," she told him, bowing her head. "I would like to keep it that way."

He nodded dismissively, pressing something on the face of his cell phone. "Yeah, okay… Problem is, Jarvis was able to find _one_ record that sounds like you. In some little corner of Iceland, they still tell a story about 'Sághildr the Monstrous', who apparently leveled a whole town. Care to explain?"

She jumped to her feet. "_That story has never been published_. _How_ did you find it?"

"Yeah, Jarvis had a heck of a time tracking it down…" She gaped at him, torn between shock and rage. "Look, if you're going to be helping us out, I have a right to know who I'm working with, right?"

She sat back down. "I suppose so..."

"So, what happened? Loki break up with you? PMS? Someone taped over your soaps?"

She sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. "To call it a 'town' is being generous," she informed, looking down at her hands. "And my mother had died." She glanced up; they were both watching her intently. "I didn't hurt anyone, though! I just…broke a few buildings." Stark looked doubtful. "Alright, I razed the village. As you've seen, my magic is very closely tied to my words—and thus my emotions—and I was…upset. But I didn't _hurt_ anyone." She looked back down at her hands. "I am no monster…

"After my initial destruction, the residents of the village were, well… They weren't pleased, as you can imagine. They tried to, umm, rid themselves of me. Unfortunately, they chose to do so at the same time that my father arrived from Asgard. He was already a bit unstable over my mother's death, and to see them with their swords and spears raised against me… He did not take it well." She turned to the window, gazing out at the sea far below them, trying not to remember the sound of the villagers' screaming.

After several long moments of silence, Bruce spoke up softly. "What was her name? Your mother."

She turned, her heart breaking at the pity and understanding she saw in his eyes. She gave him a half smile. "Her name was Eira. She was very kind."

He smiled, clenching and unclenching his fists nervously. He didn't seem to know what to do.

They were all grateful when Tony's cell phone began beeping. "Jarvis found something," he told them, stepping over to one of the screens. He pulled something up, glancing at Dr. Banner. "D'you know anything about 'Phase Two'?"

Bruce shrugged, accessing a different computer. Stark sent the file to him. "What is this..?"

Sága abandoned her corner, going to look over Bruce's shoulder once again, though she understood very little of what she saw.

"Jarvis," Tony said, speaking into his cell phone. "Get me everything about this 'Phase Two'."

* * *

Quite some time went by with no new developments. They combined the information to a single computer monitor, and Tony had assumed Sága's previous perch on the countertop. Bruce was pacing, frustrated. Sága stood by the window, anxiously twirling a strand of hair around her finger and watching the sun rise.

"What are you doing, Mr. Stark?" The commanding voice of Director Fury made her turn away. He looked, well…_furious_.

"Uhh, kind of been wondering the same thing about you," Tony challenged.

"You're supposed to be locating the Tesseract."

"We are," Bruce informed him. "The model's locked, and we're sweeping for the signature now. When we get a hit, we'll have the location within half a mile."

"Yeah, then you'll get your cube back. No muss, no fuss…" Tony trailed off, distracted by the failure of yet another attempt at accessing the restricted file. "What _is_ Phase Two?"

Captain Rogers entered the lab as well, carrying a huge, ugly piece of metal that he dropped unceremoniously on the counter. "Phase Two is SHIELD uses the cube to make weapons." He turned to Tony, "Sorry. The computer was moving a little slow for me."

Sága pushed away from the window, stepping up beside Bruce. Surely, that couldn't be true…

"Rogers, we gathered everything related to the Tesseract. This does not mean that we—"

"I'm sorry, Nick," Tony practically yelled, cutting him off. Jarvis had apparently found the correct password. He swung the screen around, showing a diagram of a missile. "What were you lying?"

"I was wrong, Director," Rogers reprimanded. "The world hasn't changed a bit."

Another door opened, and Thor walked into the lab, closely followed by Agent Romanov.

"Did you know about this?" Bruce demanded of Natasha, moving from Sága's side and around to the other side of the counter. She followed him, wondering what the spy had done to make him so defensive toward her in particular.

"You wanna think about removing yourself from this environment, Doc?"

He laughed, but the sound was humorless. "I was in Calcutta. I was pretty well removed."

"Loki is manipulating you."

"And you've been doing _what_, exactly?"

"You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you."

"Yes, and I'm not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy." He grabbed the monitor, pointing at it with his glasses in hand. "I'd like to know why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction."

Fury considered his question for a moment, before pointing at Thor. "Because of _him_."

Sága was immediately at his side, defensive and ready to protect her prince and friend at a moment's notice. Thor, on the other hand, merely sounded confused. "Me?"

"Last year, Earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town."

"Sounds familiar," Tony muttered with a glance at Sága. She and Fury ignored him.

"We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly—_hilariously_—outgunned."

"My people want nothing but peace with your planet," Thor assured him.

"But you're not the only people out there, are you? And you're not the only threat. The world's filling up with people who can't be matched; who can't be controlled."

"Like you controlled the cube?" Rogers challenged.

Sága spoke up, hoping to make this man see reason. "You don't understand; your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki and his allies to it. It is a signal to all the realms that Midgard is ready for a higher form of war. _Don't you see that_?"

"You forced our hand," was the best Fury could come up with. "We had to come up with—"

"A nuclear deterrent," Stark interrupted. "Because that always calms everything right down."

The next thing she knew, they were all talking at once, each individual arguing with everyone else. Sága had heard louder noises before, of course; but it was easier to filter sounds out the further they were away. This was just so loud, and so close, and there were so many different voices… She couldn't make heads or tails of it.

She pressed her eyes shut, hoping the decreased stimuli would make it easier to process; but it only served to make the sound amplified, her hearing compensating for the lack of sight. She pressed her hands against her ears, her feet stumbling as she reeled back from the cacophony.

Suddenly a large, gentle hand was at her waist, guiding her, pulling her close. She opened her eyes to find Bruce, his brown eyes filled with annoyance, certainly, but mostly concern. She pressed her face into his shoulder, trying to focus on his comforting scent as his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her against him. He was so _warm_…

The arguing eased up, though it did not fully cease. Sága lowered her hands from her ears, using them to cling to Bruce's arm instead. Her head was still spinning. As if from a distance, she heard Thor's laughter.

"You people are so petty," he was saying. "And tiny! You make even Sága seem large!"

Director Fury's voice came to her next. "Agent Romanov, would you escort Dr. Banner back to his—"

"Where? You rented my room!"

Sága had lost her desire to see what Bruce could do. Not like this; she didn't want him angry at those who were supposed to be his allies. All the same, she did not pull away from him, though she could tell from his voice and the way his arm tightened around her that he was—possibly dangerously—close.

"The cell was just in case—" Fury tried to reason, but Bruce cut him off again.

"In case you needed to _kill_ me, but you can't. I know; I've tried."

She raised her head from his shoulder, gazing up at him, surprised. He seemed surprised as well, surprised that the words had even come out of his mouth. He seemed to immediately regret having brought it up at all.

After a moment's hesitation, he elaborated. "I got low. I didn't see an end. So I put a bullet in my mouth, and the other guy _spit it out_." He looked down at her, as if surprised she was still there beside him. She merely tightened her grip on his arm. "…So I moved on," he continued. "I focused on helping people. I was _good_. Until you dragged me back into this freak show, and put _everyone here_ at risk. You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanov? You wanna know how I stay calm?"

There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere of the room; everything was silent now, except for the sound of Fury and Romanov both loosing their guns from their holsters. She looked down; Bruce was holding the scepter.

"Dr. Banner?" Rogers called softly. Bruce's eyes darted to him. "Put down the scepter."

He looked down in disbelief, as though surprised to find it in his hand. He glanced at Sága as if for confirmation, but she didn't know any more than he did. There was a brief flash of helplessness in his eyes, a deep-rooted pain so strong it pierced her own heart as well. She wanted to be strong for him.

One of her hands let go of his arm; briefly, he looked panicked, afraid that she was going to pull away from him like everyone else did. Instead, she reached down to grab the scepter, placing her hand just beside his.

"It's alright," she whispered.

A beeping alarm from the other side of the lab drew everyone's attention away. The spectrometers had found the Tesseract!

Together, Sága and Bruce raised the scepter and placed it back behind him on the countertop. Slowly, hesitantly, he extracted his arm from around her waist, walking over to check the computer. She instantly missed his warmth.

"Sorry, kids," he murmured. "You don't get to see my party trick, after all."

They all began arguing again, though not quite as loudly as before. Sága stepped forward, trying to get between Thor and Director Fury, who were arguing over who should go retrieve the Tesseract.

They all froze when Bruce removed his glasses and looked around desperately. "Oh, my God…"

And then the whole lab was noise and flames and chaos.

On impulse, Sága grabbed the two closest people and vanished to the only place she could think of.


	11. Find Your Way Back

Author's Note: Wow! Over 100 reviews! You guys are the absolute best! Thank you so much for making the writing of this story such an exciting and encouraging adventure!

Oh man, you guys. I am super excited for you to read this one. I'm sorry it's a bit short, and I promise the next one's coming soon. But I just...feel really good about this. And I really hope you will, too.

**Edit: **After doing a bit more research for this story and _finally_ finding a reference to the Norse goddess Sága, I relocated her hometown from Greenland to Iceland. Based on what I found, it makes more sense that way, and I just wish that I would have been directed to that little tidbit before having published this chapter. Alas, my girl does not seem to be a very well-know Aesir. Fitting for this story, but damn frustrating for doing research.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: _Find Your Way Back_

Two bright lights pierced the darkness. With a yelp, Sága shoved Thor and Director Fury onto the sidewalk and out of the street, a blue sedan swerving to avoid hitting them, blaring its horn.

Oh, _shit_.

"Sága, where are we?"

"What the _fuck_?"

She looked around quickly, panicked. The air was heavy with the smell of salt and fish. _You've gotta be _kidding_ me!_

"Sorry! I'm so sorry! I panicked," she hurried to apologize, spinning in a circle, eyes taking in the apartment complex that now stood in the place of the home she and her mother had shared. "We're in Kópavogur."

Fury looked ready to strangle her. "_Kópavogur_? In _**Ice**__**land**_?"

"_I said I was sorry, alright_? Shit! Hang on!" She darted forward, grabbing both of their arms again, the white magic of her words swirling around them all.

Those few short breaths of familiar salt air had brought her focus and clarity, enabling her to picture where she had actually _meant_ to go. She pieced it together in her mind, every minute detail that she could remember, a puzzle of different angles and views of a room she had spent little time in.

When her feet hit solid ground again, they were back on the bridge. But it was different this time; the SHIELD agents who had worked so quietly and diligently before were now running around, shouting back and forth and trying to make sense of the chaos.

Fury wrenched his arm from her grasp with a glare, stepping forward to compose his scattered and frightened crew. "Hill?"

"External detonation, sir! Number three engine is down!" a woman, presumably Agent Hill, informed him. She ran over to another crew member. "Can we get it running? Talk to me."

"The turbine looks mostly in tact, but it's impossible to get out there to make repairs while we're in the air."

She gave an exasperated sigh. "If we lose one more engine, we won't be!" She turned to the Director. "Somebody's gotta get outside and patch that engine."

Fury nodded, raising a hand to his earpiece. "Stark, you copy that?"

"I'm on it," she heard Tony answer through the device.

Fury turned to another agent, the man Sága had spoken with before. "Coulson, initiate defensive lockdown in the detention section, then get to the armory." Obedient, Agent Coulson hurried from the room. "Romanoff?"

"We're okay!" came her reply, though it was followed quickly by a worried and panicked, "We're okay, right?" and a man's groans of pain.

Oh, no. _Bruce_…

Director Fury whirled to Sága and Thor, his one visible eye wide. "You two. Stop the Hulk." She turned, about to leave, when Fury grabbed her arm, pulling her back around. His free hand reached out, snatching the earpiece out of a passing agent's ear and slapping it into her hand. "Stay in touch," he ordered.

She gave a quick nod, "Yes, sir," and ran through the door, catching Thor up.

"Which way, friend?" he asked with a small grin, filled with the thrill of a good chase.

She hesitated, listening, straining to filter through the noise of the massive ship for Bruce's anguished cries. "This way."

Thor followed her closely as they sprinted down corridors and passages, careening around corners and swerving past SHIELD agents in as great a hurry as they were. "Try to get him back to the lab," she called over her shoulder. "It's already ruined, he can't make it any worse!"

As they ran, she cursed herself for being so _stupid_, for wasting so much magic in taking them to the wrong place, and _so far_ out of the way. She should have been there by now, been with Bruce, helped keep him calm. But, from the sound of it, he was already well past his transformation by now. It was too late to reverse it, and she was too weak—_too stupid_—to do anything about it. If she transported herself and Thor to him now, she would not have the strength to fight him, though she prayed it would not come to that.

She pressed the earpiece into her ear, urging her feet to move faster. "We're coming, Natasha. Hang on!"

There was no response, but she could hear the woman's frantic footsteps and labored breaths as she ran away from the roaring man behind her. They were getting close.

A left.

A right.

There's no time; just vault down this flight of stairs. Land, and keep going. Don't hesitate.

Another left.

Oh, God.

Vault _up _these stairs. Don't let your feet stumble on the landing. There's no time to stumble.

Another right.

_There they are._

Thor rushed past her, charging the huge green figure. "Don't hurt him!" Sága called, skidding to a stop as Thor crashed into him, knocking them both straight through a wall.

She grabbed Agent Romanoff by the arms, hauling her up to her feet. "Are you alright?"

"Don't touch me!" the woman spat, shoving her away.

Sága took a step back, surprised at the reaction. Her eyes narrowed in a glare. "You're _welcome_."

Romanoff didn't seem to hear her. She was leaning back against the wall for support, breathing heavily, her eyes screwed shut.

"Are you alright?" Sága repeated, speaking slowly as though addressing a child. "Natasha, you're _bleeding_. Are you alright?"

Her eyes shot open and looked at her, but they were completely unfocused. Slowly, she raised a hand to her forehead, staring vaguely at the blood that rubbed off on her fingertips. "I'm _fine_," she snarled.

Sága huffed, taking another step back. "Great. Get it together, then. Right now, we can't afford the luxury of fear." With that, she turned, chasing after Thor and Bruce without looking back.

The trail of destruction they left behind was not difficult to follow. Shattered containers, dented walls—good Lord, had that been an _airplane_? She kept running; there was no time to think. It seemed that Thor had heeded her words, their trail leading in the direction of the lab.

However, it was plain to see he had ignored her second warning…

She charged through the gaping hole that had once been the door to the lab, just in time to see Thor winding Mjolnir up for a mighty blow. "Don't _hurt_ him!" She cried, launching herself at the much larger Asgardian and shoving him out of the way before the great hammer made impact.

A huge, green fist crashed down on her back, the blow that had been meant for Thor plowing her into the floor. She groaned, too pained to move or speak. She was barely aware of the way this green, hulking figure who had once been Bruce roared, picking Thor up as though he weighed no more than a rock and throwing him through a wall with the same ease.

He stomped back over to her. She tried to scramble to her feet, managing only to push her torso off of the floor before a thick green finger jabbed her in the shoulder with enough force to make her arms bend beneath her. She fell back to the floor with an "Oof."

"Sá…ga…" She looked up in surprise. His voice was lower, deeper, and rougher; but it was still him. He was leaning over, peering down at her, his massive fists resting on the floor.

She gave him the best smile she could muster, trying not to show that he'd hurt her. "That's right, Bruce. It's me."

His huge brow lowered and he grunted, his breath blowing her hair back from her face. "No Bruce. Hulk."

"Oh. Sorry, I'm not sure how this works. Hello, Hulk. It's nice to meet you."

He grinned, raising his fists and pounding them into the floor in what was almost like a dance, small craters forming beneath his powerful hands. He took a step back, reaching over and gripping her around the waist, surprisingly gentle. He picked her up with a single hand—surely no mean feat—and righted her, setting her down on her feet.

"Thank you," she told him with another smile. "I certainly needed your help with that."

He grunted, raising his arm and patting her on the head twice. "Sága need Hulk…"

"That's right," she agreed, nodding. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He nodded sharply, making her laugh. His coloring may have been green, but there was no denying the evidence of Bruce's features in his face, or that warmth in his eyes as he looked down at her. For all his talk, she doubted that Bruce and "Hulk" were indeed as separate and distinct as they seemed to believe. Excepting the obvious, they seemed to share quite a few similarities—perhaps even more than differences.

Lost in thought, she didn't notice the sound of the jet coming up behind her until it was too late. She just barely glanced over her shoulder when it began firing.

One of the shots struck her side, the force of it knocking her into Hulk with a cry. It wasn't enough to pierce her skin; but it stung like Hell, and singed a hole in Bruce's blazer.

Hulk roared, grabbing her and putting himself between her and the plane. The next thing she knew, her feet were lifting off the ground, and Hulk was running toward the jet.

_Oh, no_…

She wrapped both arms tightly around his thick neck, hanging on to the only thing she could grip as Hulk vaulted out into the air, landing on the top of the airplane. He roared, punching the jet and ripping off huge sheets of metal. Briefly, Sága questioned Director Fury's sanity for thinking that this would ever possibly have ended well.

The hatch was released, and the pilot tried to eject, but Hulk snatched his seat right out of the air. "No, don't!" she cried, hoping he would hear her over the wind. She was filled with relief when Hulk simply tossed the man away, resuming his very thorough destruction of the plane. Below, she spied the man's parachute erupt, and hoped the poor man would land safely.

Suddenly, everything was heat and pain. She lost her grip around Hulk's neck, the force of the airplane's explosion propelling her through the sky. For the second time in as many days, she was falling. But, as she got a look beneath her, she realized this time might not have as safe a landing.

Oh, Heaven help her, she was above the _ocean_.

She spun around, spotting land nearby, wondering if she could make it that way; wondering if she would survive such a fall; wondering if she had the strength and focus to transport herself someplace else. Her fear clawed its way out of her skull, down her spine, and through her limbs, until her whole body was shaking. She realized she'd never be able to take herself anywhere else, not with this crippling fear. But that realization only made the fear so much worse. She thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest, her lungs were ready to explode, and her veins were filled with ice. _Oh, God, I'm going to die…_

A great force knocked her off her course, propelling her toward the land, and two huge, green arms wrapped around her body. She looked up at Hulk, his green eyes determined and focused on some target as they flew through the air.

The ground was racing up to meet them, but he didn't flinch and his focus never wavered. He merely held her close against his broad, green chest. At the last second, he flipped them over, his back taking the full brunt of the impact as they crashed through the roof of an empty warehouse.

Even so, it still hurt worse than she had imagined it would.

How far had they fallen? It felt as though they'd been in the air for eternity, though that was probably a result of her fright. With a prolonged groan, she rolled off of him, landing on top of the mountain of rubble they'd created when the roof caved in. She just lay there for a moment, eyes closed, trying to remember what breathing felt like.

Once she felt like she'd figured it out, she raised herself up on her arms, looking Hulk over to make sure he wasn't injured or bleeding or anyth—

_Oh dear God he's naked._

She didn't think she'd ever blushed so furiously before as she ripped her arms out of his blazer and threw it across his waist, trying very hard to keep her eyes averted. _Oh God, oh God, oh God…_

She forced herself to turn away, looking up at his face. Her movements seemed to have woken him. He gave a great, anguished cry that shook the pile of rubble. His eyes were wide and searching, his chest heaving, his arms thrashing.

She grabbed at his hand, partly to get his attention and partly to keep it from pummeling her. She was successful at both; his eyes locked on her, and she could see flecks of that familiar brown swirling through the green. She understood now; he was changing back.

"Sága..?"

She nodded frantically, kneeling beside him and grasping at his hand. "Yes, that's right, it's me. I'm right here." The much larger hand closed tightly around hers, almost painfully, but she did not flinch; not even when another convulsion wracked his body, his back arching off the ground.

She wondered how best to soothe him, never having been the recipient of much comfort herself. She thought back to how her mother would hold her tight when she was a child, singing softly while her daughter cried, returning home covered in mud and scrapes and dried blood from fights with the village children. She thought of how Loki used to comfort her, running his long fingers through her hair and kissing her. It all seemed to center around physical contact. She wondered if her own touch would help Bruce now…

She drew his hand against her chest, kissing one overlarge digit softly and hesitantly. He didn't pull away, which she took as a good sign. She raised her free hand, pushing a dark lock of curls away from his face, murmuring, "Shh, it's alright. I'm here. I'm here, and I will not leave you."

"Sága," he groaned again, eyes drifting closed as she ran her fingers through his hair.

His breathing was still heavy and labored, and the convulsions continued to pass through him at intervals; but with every exhale, his skin seemed a little less green, his body seemed a little bit smaller, and his face looked a little more like Dr. Bruce Banner's.

In her ear, the piece of SHIELD tech spit out nothing but static, far too far out of range. She considered looking up, searching for the giant aircraft, but she was afraid. Afraid of what she might see, certainly. But also afraid to look away from Bruce.

He needed her, needed an anchor, something to help him find his way back. She knew what that was like, and she would not leave him.

* * *

Loki Laufeyson strode into SHIELD's aircraft hangar, enraged. He _could not find her._

One of the men he'd taken approached him. "Sir, this whole thing is about to crash. We need to get you out of here _now_."

Loki glared at him. As if he didn't realize what was happening. "Not yet. I have to find her first."

The small man paled. "Er, about that, sir…"

"_What is it_?"

"It's seems that she's, uh…not here anymore."

Loki was _tired_ of playing games. He grabbed the man by the neck, lifting him up in the air. "You will tell me what you know, or you will die right now."

"She fell with the Hulk!" the man gasped, desperately gripping Loki's wrist. "SHIELD sent a jet after him, and he jumped out after it! He took her with him!"

Loki released his grip, letting the man fall down to his feet. The look of relief on his face was so disgusting that Loki almost ended him right there. What was there to be relieved about when Sága was lost? Seething, he stomped off toward their jet, weighing the pros and cons of putting the tip of his scepter through this man's head. "Where's Barton?" he demanded.

"He, uh… It seems he's been captured."

Loki exhaled heavily, trying to quell his rage. Oh, how he wanted to end this creature's miserable existence; but with Barton gone, no on else knew how to pilot this aircraft. "_Fine_. Let's go, then."

The little man hurried to the pilot's seat, surely thrilled to still be alive. It almost made Loki laugh; he was just going to kill him when they landed.

The thought made him fell a little better, and he seated himself as they took off, flying far away from the doomed Helicarrier. He wasn't worried about Barton; while a skilled warrior and clever man, the only real downside to losing him was the challenge it posed for carrying out his bargain to Agent Romanoff. But, if the two of them survived the crash, there would be plenty of time for that later. And Sága…

Well, Sága would find her way back to him. She always did.


	12. Trust Me

__Author's Note: Guys I have been waiting to write this chapter since I first saw Avengers. And I _really _hope you like it because I like it a whole lot. Oh, man...

* * *

Chapter Twelve: _Trust Me_

_Not again._

Dr. Bruce Banner felt like shit. His jaw was throbbing; his back hurt; his limbs felt like lead. He was feverishly hot, sweat beading up all over his skin. And something was in his hair. With a groan, he tried to move his head away; but whatever it was, it quickly returned, brushing the hair back from his forehead. Actually, that felt rather nice…

It felt like it took him an hour to find the strength to open his eyes, and another hour for his strange surroundings to become an intelligible vision. He seemed to be in a warehouse, its ruined ceiling gaping above him, framing a clear blue sky. Great. He must have fallen out of the Helicarrier. Or maybe he jumped? It wasn't easy to remember. His memory was a haze of green and rage, and he was much too tired to attempt piecing everything together.

He looked to his right, finding himself surrounded by huge piles of rubble, apparently the remains of what had been the ceiling. That would explain why his back hurt so much. Then what was that in his hair..?

Slowly, he looked over to his left, eyes widening in surprise. She was just sitting there, her strange white hair an adorable unruly mess, her strange golden eyes fixed on the sky above them. One of her hands was against his cheek, her fingers running rhythmically through his hair. Her other hand was clasped tightly around his own, holding it against her chest.

Why was she here? How had she gotten here? He couldn't remember, it was all so fuzzy. He heaved a sigh of relief; no matter how she got here, at least this meant he hadn't hurt her.

Hearing him sigh, she raised his hand to her mouth, placing a gentle kiss against his knuckle, her eyes still fixed above.

His breath hitched at the touch of her lips; it was more intimate and gentle than anything he had experienced in a long time. "…Sága?" he asked, his voice thick and tired.

Her eyes snapped down, and a sweet smile spread across her face. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," she murmured.

Her smile was contagious, and he returned it without really meaning to. "How long have I been out?"

She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, thinking. "An hour? Maybe two. I'm not certain."

He nodded, closing his eyes and asking the question that he dreaded knowing the answer to, "Did I hurt anyone?"

"No." _No?_ "You gave Agent Romanoff quite a fright," she answered. At the mention of her name, a wave of bitter rage passed through him. Oh, yes. Natasha. She had lied to him about the cage, and had quarreled with Sága. Vaguely, he could remember her running away from him, and knew she was lucky to be alive. "And you certainly put Thor in his place," Sága was saying. "He has not been so outmatched in many years. You might want to worry about that, by the way; his ego will surely force him to ask for another round, to prove himself." Her tone was light as she spoke of her friend. As if from a dream, Bruce could remember being on the receiving end of that hammer of his. That would explain his jaw… "And this place was already empty, so there was no one around to be hurt."

He glanced around the warehouse. It definitely looked like it had been abandoned for a while. "That's lucky."

She shook her head sharply. "It wasn't luck, just good aim. You were awake when we fell."

He stared at her for a long time, processing. That couldn't be true. How could..? The other guy was…uncontrollable. There was no way… "When _we_ fell?" he repeated. "What…happened, Sága? Why are you here, too?"

She frowned, looking away from him for the first time. "You… Well, SHIELD did something stupid. You and I were having a really lovely chat…"

Vaguely, he could remember that.

"_Sága need Hulk…"_

"_That's right."_

"SHIELD tried to…well, I'm not sure what they were trying to accomplish, exactly. They sent a fighter jet after you—"

"You were hit," he interrupted, sitting up. As she spoke, the pieces of his memory had begun falling into place. He certainly remembered his fury that they had hurt her. "You were hit. Are you alright?"

She laughed, gently pushing him back down and running her fingers through his hair again. That felt very nice… "Of course I am, silly. It takes much more than that to harm me. But you…got a bit upset. And you sort of, well…jumped out at the plane."

With a groan, he covered his face with his free hand. "Oh, God… And I dragged you along with me! Oh God, I'm so sorry, Sága. I could have gotten you _killed_!"

"Oh, stop that," she reprimanded. "You were just trying to protect me. And you may not remember, but you saved my life."

Slowly, he lowered his hand. "What?"

She chewed on her lip, brow furrowed, and looked away. She didn't seem too keen to tell him. "I… After the pilot got away, the plane exploded, and we got blown away from each other. We're awfully close to the coast, here, and I was headed for the water. I…can't swim. My body is too dense; I weigh more than a normal human, and I sink like a stone. I tried to learn once, and nearly drowned. I've been terrified of water ever since." She turned to him, eyeing him carefully. "I've never told anybody that… Not even Loki." She looked away again, hanging her head.

He gave her hand a tug and a squeeze, murmuring softly, "I-I won't tell anyone. Trust me. Your secret's safe."

He could see a small smile grace her face before she continued, "I was too scared to even think, and I would have surely died. You caught me, and brought us here, where we wouldn't hurt anyone. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

He tore his eyes away from her, looking up at the sky, thinking. Perhaps…

They were silent for a long time before she extracted her hand from his and stood, slowly and carefully climbing the mound of rubble. "Anyway," she began, picking up a small bundle and making her way back down to him, "A nice old man came by earlier, the guardian of this place. He said he could give us until 6:00 tonight before he needed to call the police and file an incident report. We need to be long gone by then. And he brought you some clothes," she added, holding out the bundle.

He glanced down. _Oh, dear God, no…_

Frantically, he grabbed the pants from her and began to tug them on, beyond grateful that she had thought to cover him with the blazer. Wait… Did that mean..? She would've had to… Oh, God…

She was sitting again, head turned away and eyes closed, her face a faint pink as he pulled the pants up and zipped them. He reached for the shirt, but hesitated. He really didn't _want_ to know, but, oh God, he _had_ to know…

"Sága, did you…" He had a hard time getting the words out, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Uh… Did you…see anything?"

Her face turned a bright red, and he panicked. "I wanted to respect your privacy," she began, and relief washed over him. "But…" Oh. God. No. Her voice trailed off, and the silence hung heavily between them, for too long—much too long.

Finally, she turned to look at him, her eyes dark, her face red. "You have _nothing_ to be ashamed of," she repeated, so softly he thought he must have imagined it.

But then, he did the second most foolish thing he'd ever done.

He kissed her.

Almost immediately, he tried to pull away, telling himself this was a terrible idea. But she wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled him back in, and he stopped thinking entirely.

She tasted like coffee and blueberries. He grinned against her mouth, deepening the kiss as she ran her fingers through his hair. He pulled her closer, kissing her desperately, frantically. She moaned into his mouth, kissing him back with equal fervor, her hands running along his shoulders and chest. God, she felt so good…

And then her small hands began to push him away, and he drew back immediately. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry!" He was hovering above her, one hand tangled in her hair, cradling her head above the stones. His other hand… How had his hand even _gotten_ under her shirt? He couldn't remember doing that… He tugged his hand free, ignoring the softness of her skin, ignoring the way she shivered as he did so. "I-I'm so sorry!"

"What?"

He moved away, turning his back to her as he slipped into the shirt. His hands were shaking, and he struggled with the buttons. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…shouldn't have done that. I had no right. I just…"

She scrambled around beside him, shoving his hands away and doing up the buttons for him. When she reached the top button, she grabbed his face and kissed him again, just long enough to strike him speechless. She held his face in her hands. "I am thoroughly interested in pursuing that train of thought with you. But right now we need to get out of here. Okay?"

All he could do was stare. Had she just said that? Surely, she couldn't have said that. But she was still holding his face and waiting for his response, and he realized that she had actually said that…

"Uh… A-alright," he managed to get out.

She grinned, jumping to her feet. "Great! So, then." She put her hands on her hips, casually looking around the warehouse. "Where are we going to go?"

Bruce scrambled up to his feet, looking around as well. "What happened to the Helicarrier? Is it still, um…" he trailed off, not knowing how to ask.

She looked up through the hole in the roof. "It is still in the air, but that is all I know. Do you want me to return you there?"

"No," he definitely didn't want to return there. Not after what he'd done… "Before the, uh, explosion, I saw the result of the scan. The Tesseract is in New York City." He sighed, dreading what he was about to say next. "We need to go there."

She nodded solemnly. "Do you think the others will be there?"

He ran a hand through his hair. From what he could remember, the lab had been completely destroyed, all of their hard work entirely gone. SHIELD would have to start from scratch. But Bruce couldn't help but believe that, perhaps, Tony Stark might just surprise them all. If anyone could do it, it was Tony. "I'm not sure. But if they aren't, I think you and I are the only ones who can do anything to stop Loki."

She chewed on her lip, suddenly very interested in looking at the ground. He could only imagine what she was thinking, how it must be killing her to watch her friend's descent into madness and to know what she might have to do to stop him. Hesitantly, he reached over and took her hand. She threaded her fingers through his. "Right," she said, raising her head. "We had better get going, then. New York City is about 100 miles from here."

He laughed bitterly. "Oh, so close? Great, I thought it would be somewhere totally inconvenient and unreasonable."

She laughed. "No distance is unreasonable when you're with me," she reminded.

"Yeah, but doing that tires you out, right? If we fight Loki, you'll need your strength."

She nodded, her smile unfailing. "That's true, but fortunately I have a back-up plan."

He frowned, worried by the mischievous look in her eye. "Okay..?"

She gave his hand a squeeze. "Hang on," she whispered, that white light tumbling out of her mouth again.

That light began to whirl around them both, the bright light threatening to blind him, the wind whipping at the baggy clothes he'd been given. It felt as though his whole body was being pulled apart, his very molecules rearranged and put back together. And then the wind and the light faded, his feet were back on solid ground, and the world slid back into focus. He looked around, trying to figure out what they were doing in an old junkyard.

"Sága, where are we..?"

"About five miles from where we landed; not far at all." She grinned, tugging at his hand. "It's this way, come on."

He followed her reluctantly, worried about what her idea of a back-up plan might be. "I-I don't know about this…"

She pulled him around a corner with a laugh. "Trust me."

He couldn't help but return her smile, couldn't help but trust her. Even when she stopped beside a rusted old motorcycle and held out her hand.

"Here we are!"

"Uh… What?"

"You can drive one of these, right?"

"Uh…W-well, yeah, but this thing is ancient. It'll never run!"

She just laughed again, raising her free hand to her mouth and kissing her index finger. She kept her eyes on him, a grin on her face as her fingertip began to glow white. She reached out and touched the handle of the bike. Immediately, the engine roared to life, purring as though it was brand new.

Bruce gaped. "How did you do that?"

"Magic is the purest source of energy there is. Don't you know that? Why did you think the Tesseract is so important?"

He closed his mouth, trying to think of something to say to that but coming up short. "Okay, then," was the best he could get. He let go of her hand, throwing his leg over the bike and revving the engine, testing it. Oh, that sounded good…

And then Sága climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest and resting her chin on his shoulder. He hadn't really thought this through. He would just have to pretend that she wasn't there, gripping him tightly, her body pressed up against him.

Yeah. Just pretend she's not there. Simple.

With a sigh, he revved the engine again, speeding away from this dump.

He had told himself he'd never return to New York and the terrible memories—and even worse, the _lack_ of memories—there. But with Sága's arms around him and her voice in his ear, telling him which way to go… Well, it almost felt like he might just be able to do this.


	13. I'll Always Be Here

Author's Note: Hello there! Sorry to have been away for so long. Personal things and real life and all of that nonsense. Just know that I love you very much, and am proud to present you with this latest addition. Also, rest assured that this is _not_ the end. Don't worry, there will be more.

This is my first time publishing a battle sequence, so I hope you guys like it! Any comments or suggestions are very welcome.

Two things before I let you go: I dunno when you're reading this, but it's about 4 a.m. here and I'm very tired. So if I owe you a PM, please be patient with me. I'll try to get those out tomorrow. Also, this chapter is devoted to the lovely and wonderful BeautifulButBrokenxx. I am so sorry for your loss. I can't tell you how excited I was to see another review from you! I missed you very much, and I hope you enjoy this one.

* * *

Chapter 13: _I'll Always be Here_

They stopped just once on the way to New York City, at a quiet and nearly run-down gas station. Sága tried to ignore the teenaged attendant's leering as she acquired the restroom key and jogged back to the poorly maintained facilities to relieve herself.

She washed her hands, sighing at her reflection in the cloudy mirror. There were bags under her eyes, and dirt was smeared over her cheek. Her wind-blown hair stuck out at all angles. She ran her damp fingers through it, trying to comb out the tangles and smooth it down. Her fingers ghosted over the black piece of tech in her ear, the earpiece Director Fury had given her.

"_Stay in touch_," he'd told her, before she and Bruce fell out of the sky, well out of range. She couldn't seem to turn it off, and had begun to ignore the static hissing into her ear. It hadn't been so obvious over the roar of the engine and the wind; but it was unnaturally loud in here.

She reached up to take it out of her ear, but hesitated. Perhaps SHIELD would be able to trace it, and would follow them into battle. Perhaps they would be able to override the distance and get in touch with her.

And she had to admit, it looked pretty badass in her ear. She thought again about Agent Coulson's offer, before realizing she'd wasted too much time already and Bruce would be waiting for her.

_Bruce_…

She snatched up a handful of paper towels and rubbed at the dirt on her cheek. Ugh. That would have to do.

She shouldered open the door and tossed the key back to the attendant, who was deliberately avoiding looking at her and rubbing the back of his neck. Interesting…

Outside, Bruce was leaning up against the motorcycle, a plastic bag in his hands. He grinned when he saw her, pulling a bottle of water out of the bag and holding it out to her.

"Thank you." She screwed off the lid and took a huge gulp, emptying half.

"I told him we'd come back to pay later," he said, holding out a granola bar that she accepted with a grin, tearing it open and shoving most of the bar in her mouth.

"Yeah?" she asked around a mouthful of granola. "And what did you tell him to make him stop looking at me?"

He flushed and coughed, turning and pitching the empty bag. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

She swallowed the rest of the granola bar, drained the last of the water, and kissed him on the cheek. "You're cute. Let's get out of here."

He flushed and got back on the bike, and she followed suit, wrapping her arms around his chest and trying not to think about what he felt like under that shirt.

She was distracted for the rest of the ride. She knew she should be thinking about the army of Chitauri they would soon be facing and how best to get through to Loki. Instead, she thought about SHIELD and Coulson, and what it would mean to stay on Midgard—what she'd be giving up; what she'd be _gaining_.

She thought of Bruce, and his smile, and the way he looked at her. She thought of the way he'd kissed her, hot and desperate, as if he needed her more than _air_.

She thought of Hulk as well, and the strange look he'd given her when she told him she'd needed his help. It wasn't likely that he had ever felt needed before.

She even thought of Tony Stark, who had been so kind to her, almost like a friend.

If she stayed, she could be near Bruce. And she could protect Hulk, using her magic to hide him from those who sought to manipulate his strength. And perhaps she and Tony could become good friends.

But if she did join SHIELD, she would be aligning herself with an organization that would use the Tesseract to develop weapons of mass destruction. She would be abandoning her father, without anyone else to watch over him, or to make sure that he was eating, or to watch over the Bifrost in his absence, or to keep him company as he stood guard—although, admittedly, her company the past year was lacking on account of her silence.

She was shaken from her thoughts by the sharp tug of impossibly strong magic nearby, as a blue light erupted over the city skyline. A portal was opening above Manhattan. The Tesseract was drawing all available power to itself, and she clamped her mouth shut to prevent it from pulling the breath and magic from her lungs. The attraction of such similar transport magic was strong, but she was determined to fight it off. She would not be an unwitting aid to another of Loki's schemes; not again.

"Are you seeing this?" Bruce called over his shoulder.

"Yes, I see it!" she called back, a small speck of light escaping her lips. _And that is all you'll get from me…_

The static in her ear stuttered, snatches of voices beginning to filter in. Excited, she looked around, finally spotting the familiar black jet, the blur of red that could only be the Iron Man, and…Thor, struggling against Loki. "Our friends are there!" She called up to Bruce. He nodded in response, forcing the bike to its top speed, urging it to go faster.

They wove around abandoned cars and screaming people, the frightened citizens scrambling to escape the danger. The closer they got to Stark Tower, the more Chitauri they found. "Come on," she muttered, taunting them, grasping the sword her words created. She deflected any shots that headed their way, and sliced through those warriors who came close enough to reach; but there was no time to stop.

She heard the crash of Thunder, and turned to see Thor land on the ground beside Romanoff, the Captain, and another man she did not know. "There they are!" she called, pointing with her blade.

Bruce made a swift turn, reducing their speed as they neared their allies. It came to a spluttering stop and she climbed off of the back, reluctantly unwinding her arm from around him.

"I hope you've been keeping count, my prince!" she called out to Thor with a broad grin, the magic of her words clinging to her body and solidifying into milk-white armor and shield to match her blade. Her father's blood ran hot through her veins, anticipating the thrill of a fight. "I have every intention of felling more of these traitorous insects than you. Your head start might just give you a chance!"

"You speak as though you have any hope to best a son of Odin, my dear friend," he shot back, an equal grin on his face.

Bruce stepped up beside her, giving a very half-hearted wave. "Well, this looks…horrible," he commented, hiding his fear, uncertainty, and reluctance to even be here behind his unflappable dry with.

"I've seen worse," Romanoff commented, eyeing him carefully.

"Sorry," he told her, though he didn't sound particularly apologetic.

"No, we could…use a little worse," she corrected with an attempt at a smile.

Captain Rogers spoke up next, speaking into the headset of his suit. "Stark, we got 'em."

"Hey, Sága," Tony called through her earpiece. "Banner's with you?"

Her grin widened even more at the sound of his voice. "Yes, sir."

"Knew I could count on you. Tell him to suit up. I'm bringing the party to you!"

A great crash sounded from behind, and she whirled as a massive flying serpent took out a corner of a building, hot on the trail of the Iron Man.

"I-I don't see how that's a party," Romanoff muttered behind her.

"_I do," _Sága laughed, raising her shielded arm and twirling her sword in her hand, ensuring the freedom of her movements. It had been a long time since she'd been able to don the armor crafted for her by that old crone. She would not let this go to waste.

Bruce glanced at her uncertainly, a look of both helplessness and resignation in his eyes. She reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm right here. I'll always be here," she reminded him softly. He gave her that quirky grin that made her knees weaker than an invading alien army ever could, and began to walk toward the rapidly-approaching serpent, undoing the buttons of his shirt.

"Dr. Banner," Captain Rogers called after him. "Now might be a really good time for you to get angry."

Bruce laughed bitterly. "That's my secret, Cap." He glanced over his shoulder at them, eyes full of the pain he hid so well. "I'm always angry."

The transformation was quicker than she would have thought possible. One moment, her dear Dr. Bruce Banner was standing there, lost and broken and dangerously close to the jaws of a creature who seemed quite intent on eating him. And then the next moment, Hulk was there in his place, big and green and protecting Bruce by crushing the nose of that creature with a single fist.

He plowed it into the ground, leaving a trail through the pavement. The serpent's armor crumpled and fell away, its momentum carrying the tail up and over them. Sága ducked behind her shield as Stark called, "Hold on!" The creature's flesh went up in flames, its remaining armor raining down around them. The smell was unbearable.

All around them, the Chitauri removed their faceplates and screamed, mourning the death of the serpent, their attentions now firmly fixed on the group of seven who stood together on the bridge. Beside her, Hulk roared right back at them.

"Guys?" Romanoff's voice cut in, and they all looked up to the portal. More of those serpents swam through the portal, along with countless more Chitauri warriors. At least they were making this a worthy battle.

"Call it, Captain."

Steve looked around at them all, assessing, calculating, planning. "Alright, listen up. Till we can close that portal, our priority is containment. Barton, I want you on that roof, eyes on everything. Call out patterns and strays. Sága, you good to move?"

She raised her chin proudly. "Always."

"Good. Stark, the two of you are on perimeter. Anything gets more than three blocks out, you turn it back or you turn it to ash."

Sága spun around, eyeing all of the streets and alleys and passageways within the perimeter, forming an exact mental image of the layout of the city. She spotted a group of soldiers already past the three-block radius, and in the next instant she was there.

The element of surprise was on her side, and she sliced through six Chitauri before they even realized she was there. She raised her shield and charged, the heightened senses and speed she had inherited from Heimdall allowing her to dodge their blasts with ease, cutting through thirty more. Allowing her sword and shield to dissipate, she snatched up a weapon from one of the fallen Chitauri, easily shooting down the pair that tried to run off and regroup.

She took a moment to catch her breath, looking around for a fight. Another group of them had managed to make it too far down Park Avenue. "_There_," she muttered, the short word being plenty to take her to them.

She repeated this pattern—spotting, transporting, destroying—over and over again. Her blade sliced through their armor and flesh with the same ease as a word slices through silence. Her shield and armor protected her with the strength of a solid and well-prepared apologetic.

Much like many insectoid races she had fought before, the Chitauri's strength was in their numbers. Individually, they made poor soldiers. She assumed they were trained only so far as to hold, operate, and aim their weapons before they were sent off to join the mass they called an army. They were no match for her, who had been trained to fight in Asgard alongside Loki and Thor, the royal Sons of Odin. Their only viable tactic was to back her into a corner and overwhelm her with sheer quantity; but she was much too swift for them, and much too adept at getting out of tight places. They never stood a chance.

Eventually, they seemed to recognize the danger along the perimeter, and began focusing their efforts at the center. She crouched down, using the short reprieve to catch her breath. The adrenaline of battle was giving out, and though the distances were short, she was definitely feeling the effect of using her magic so rapidly and continuously without rest.

She raised a hand to the earpiece Fury had given her. "Barton? Are you there?"

A man's voice answered her, though she did not need the technology to hear his response. "Hey, it's Sága, right? Nice to meet ya. I hear your eyes are _almost_ as good as mine. And you're pretty handy with that sword."

She chuckled at his pride, eyeing the small man on the roof several blocks away. "Thank you. I do not believe I've ever seen a finer archer than yourself, even in Asgard."

He grinned, taking a shot that struck true without even having to look. "I'm flattered. What can I do for you?"

"It seems I've run out of bugs to kill. You've a better vantage than I. Any thoughts on where I could find some more?"

He laughed, eyes scanning the street. "I like your style. Looks like Nat and the Captain could use a hand downtown. The infestation seems to be gathering there."

"Sounds perfect. Thank you."

"Any time."

She took a deep breath, heaving herself up to her feet. She adjusted her grip on her sword and, exhaling, transported to this next fight. The three of them together made quick work of the surrounding crowd. Sága sliced through the arm of one, snatching the weapon out of his detached limb and tossing it over to Romanoff. She, in turn, caught it and spun, shooting down three more warriors in one swift movement.

A thud behind them signaled Rogers' return and the end of their immediate threat. The three huddled together, assessing the carnage around them. Romanoff leaned back against an abandoned taxi cab with a sigh and a glance toward the sky. "None of this is gonna mean a damn thing if we don't close that."

Captain Rogers frowned. "None of our best guns can touch it."

"With all due respect," Sága told him, "this is monsters and magic. Guns have no business here." She twirled her sword reflexively. "Allow me to try my hand at it."

Rogers nodded, and she turned to head toward the tower, but Romanoff stopped her. "I'm going with you."

"What's the matter, Natasha?" Sága teased with a smirk. "Still don't trust me?"

"Not as far as I can throw you," she answered with a deceptive smile.

Sága laughed, examining the woman's short stature and lean arms. "That's much shorter than you think."

Her eyes narrowed, making her smile seem all the more dangerous. "Probably not."

She laughed again and turned away from her, assessing the distance from here to the tower, and from ground level to the roof, where the Tesseract was located. "I haven't the strength to take us both there. Perhaps not even myself. You'll need to find a ride."

"I got a ride," she informed her, nonchalant. Frowning, Sága followed her gaze to one of the flying chariots the Chitauri rode on. She grinned, impressed. This woman was brave. "I could use a boost, though."

Sága nodded, grasping her meaning while the Captain looked on, confused. She crouched down and laced her fingertips together, allowing her sword and shield to vanish. "Let's see how far I trust _you_, then."

Natasha ran at her, placing a foot in her hands. Sága heaved her up into the air, watching as she caught onto the back of a passing chariot. She smirked, turning to Rogers. "Hang in there, Captain," she encouraged, grasping her sword out of the words and taking off running for Stark Tower.

She dodged over and around vehicles in varied states of disorder, vaulting over bodies of fallen serpents, cutting her way through Chitauri. If she could just get to the base of the building, she should be able to transport to the top without incident.

She glanced up, seeing Hulk fly overhead, grabbing Loki and throwing him inside. Oh, there's no way this could end well. She had managed to avoid Loki so far, and suspected that he was doing the same. If it all came down to the two of them, then she would do what had to be done. And if he hurt Bruce, well… She hoped she would not be held responsible for her actions if he did.

She urged her feet to move faster. She had no desire to battle her friend if she could avoid it, and prayed it would not come to that.

She skidded to a halt at the base of the tower, looking up to find that Natasha had already made it there and was speaking with the scientist Loki had taken control of. "Come on, Sága, you can do this," she assured herself, focusing steadily on the rooftop, allowing the magic to pull her body apart and put her back together again, far above the city.

She reappeared, just as Hulk took a flying leap away from the tower again. She sighed with relief that he seemed unhurt, and took a look around for Loki. What she saw surprised her: he was laying on the ground and whimpering, a crater molded perfectly around his body. _Oh…_

She shook herself, not able to spare the time to wonder at Hulk's strength, and ran over to Natasha and the scientist, both of whom were peering over the edge. "What is it?"

Romanoff turned to her. "The scepter. It should be able to override the cube."

She nodded, acting before thinking, and vaulted over both of their heads, landing heavily on the balcony beside the scepter. She groaned at the landing, but did not hesitate in snatching up the scepter. "_Please_," she coughed. It was enough to bring her back to the roof—but just barely enough, she discovered when she tried to stand and landed on her knees.

Natasha rushed over to her, pulling the scepter from her grip. "Take it easy. I got this."

She tried to laugh, but her breath failed her and she coughed instead. "Still don't…trust me, do you?"

Romanoff hurried back to the Tesseract, where the scientist was logging into the computer and preparing to shut down the whole system. She glanced back over her shoulder with what might actually be a smile. "I think I'm starting to."

Sága closed her eyes with a smile, trying to force air into her lungs and strength into her body. It was difficult, this close to the Tesseract, which was still trying to pull her magic to itself. _Two can play at that game_, she thought, pulling at the energy that escaped as Natasha breached its forcefield, feeling it race through her bones.

She forced her eyes to open, focusing on Tony's voice in her ear. "I've got a nuke coming in, and it's gonna blow in less than a minute," he was saying. "I know just where to put it."

"Stark," Rogers commanded, ever the voice of reason, "You know that's a one-way trip."

"No it isn't!" Sága called, struggling to her feet. "Tony Stark, I _will_ come to get you."

"I was hoping you'd say that," he told her, before the communication was cut.

Sága pulled as much of the extant energy to herself as she could, gaze focused on Tony's red suit and the missile on his back.

He flew nearer and nearer, and then angled it and headed up—up—up through the portal.

Sága could see him release the missile, and saw it head straight for the mothership…but Tony was just drifting.

All around them, the Chitauri crumpled to the ground, useless without their link to the main fleet.

But Tony wasn't coming back.

"Close it!" Sága yelled, using what little magic she had to take her up and through the portal after him.

She held her breath as she reappeared in the vacuum of space. As the portal closed shut beneath them, she wrapped her arms and legs around Tony's metal suit. She thought of Manhattan, of Loki and Thor, of Captain Rogers and Barton and even Natasha…and she thought of Bruce.

"_Please_," she begged with her final breath, pleading with whomever would hear her and take compassion on their plight, trying not to think about the possibility of suffocating out here in the middle of space and its similarities to death by drowning, trying not to wonder if the light that swirled around them was bright enough for such a long trip. She screwed her eyes shut, afraid to face the possibilities.

After what felt like eternity, her lungs were filled to bursting with air, and she realized she was falling. Again.

She opened her eyes, looking down, trying to figure out where they were. She spotted Stark Tower, and realized that they had very nearly made it back safely before her magic was completely drained, depositing them in the sky above the city.

"We're here! Help!" She screamed, hoping the others would hear her through the earpiece. "Please, someone help!"

She could hear them scrambling, trying to figure out what to do. She could hear Thor begin to spin his hammer, preparing to fly up after them. She hoped that would work…

And then, she heard an almost deafening roar, and found herself once more pressed up against a broad green chest.

_Hulk!_

He snatched she and Tony out of the air, clinging to a building to slow their descent, once again twisting to land on his back and protect her from any impact. They slid to a stop, and he released Stark, letting him roll heavily and unceremoniously to the pavement. She lay on top of him for a moment longer, catching her breath and fending off the darkness on the edge of her vision, surprised to find that she was crying.

"Great catch, Hulk," she gasped, trying to compose herself.

Beneath her, she felt his chest rise as he grunted. "Sága quit falling."

She laughed, though it came out as more of a sob, finally rolling off of him and landing on her hands and knees beside Tony. "Perhaps I will. But I hope I never quit needing your help."

He grinned broadly, rising to his feet with remarkable ease after such a harsh landing. Thor and Captain Rogers finally made their way to them, and they all crouched around the Iron Man. Thor snatched off his mask and tossed it away; Steve leaned over to listen for breathing. They all waited, watched, hoped, prayed…

All except Hulk, who quickly grew impatient and roared as loud as he could, making Sága's vision swim and Tony Stark's eyes _snap open_.

He gasped, frightened, eyes wide and searching for what had brought him back. Hulk roared again, pounding his chest with pride.

"What the _Hell_?" Tony glanced at all of them. "What just happened? If someone kissed me, _please_ tell me it was Sága."

She laughed, glad to see that he was back to his snarky self. For a moment, she actually considered kissing him, simply relieved that he was alive. She quickly thought better of it.

Captain Rogers sat back, breathing heavily, almost in a daze. "We won."

Tony closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. "Alright! Hey, everybody! Good job, guys! Let's just not come in tomorrow. Let's just…take a day." He groaned, trying and failing to sit up. "Have you ever tried shawarma?" he asked, pointing. "There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I dunno what it is, but I wanna try it."

Sága laughed, eyes closing as relief flooded through her. They had won, Midgard was saved, and they were all _still alive_.

"We're not finished yet," Thor reminded, and she felt her heart sink. Of course. Loki…

"And then shawarma after?" Tony asked, hopeful. Rogers laughed, rising to his feet, he and Thor helping to pull Tony upright.

Likewise, Sága tried unsuccessfully to stand, her arms almost giving out beneath her at the extra effort. She groaned. She had never used all of her magic before, and had never been so tired. She could not think of a fight more challenging than this one against her eyelids, to keep them from closing.

A large, green hand grabbed her around the waist and picked her up effortlessly. Hulk cradled her in his arms, and she sighed, pressing her forehead against his chest. "Thank you, Hulk," she gasped, beyond grateful for the relief. He grunted in response, and began the trek back to Stark Tower.

* * *

They took the elevator this time—the service elevator, as the main one could not handle all of their combined weight. Barton, Natasha, and the scientist—Selvig, she now remembered—met them at the top, with the Tesseract. Sága raised a shaky hand toward it, pulling a gentle dose of magic to her, letting it make its way through her screaming limbs. Oh, that felt much better…

She patted Hulk's chest, and he reluctantly set her down, not removing his hands from her until he was certain that she could stand on her own.

Together, their victorious little group went to stand before Loki, who was just managing to pull himself up to his knees. Slowly, hesitantly, he turned, eyeing the unified force that had defeated him. He fixed his eyes on Tony. "If it's all the same to you… I'll have that drink now."

"Yeah, don't think so. Thor? Can you shut him up?"

Sága stepped forward before Thor could answer. "Please, my prince. May I have the honor?" Thor appraised her, noting the grim set of her face and the dangerous look in her eyes, and nodded.

She took another step forward slowly. For perhaps the first time since she'd known him, Loki looked genuinely _frightened_ of her. "Loki, god of mischief and lies. You have committed treason against the peace of the nine realms; a peace established by High King Odin; Odin, whose crime you hold against him was calling you his _son_. Therefore I strip you of your magic, and bind you, until such time as the King of Asgard is able to pass judgment over you for what you have done. May he be as merciful to you as he is just."

Loki held out his hands to her, willingly giving over his magic. She felt it course through her, so much different than her own. She clasped his hands in both of hers, binding them together, and he let them drop into his lap, heavy with the weight of the bonds.

She knelt down before him, reaching out to muzzle him as well, but he stopped her. "Sága, _please_. You… You have to know." She furrowed her brow, wondering what it could be that he had to tell her. She could hear the others' grumblings as she leaned in cautiously, placing her ear beside his mouth; she held up her hand to quiet them as he began to speak. "Sága, I… If the Chitauri manage to get their hands on me… I have failed them. They will not be so _merciful_ as Asgard."

She drew back, eyeing him carefully, and then did something she had never done before in her many years of life.

She slapped him.

"What were you _thinking_, Loki? How could you _ever_ have thought this was a good idea? What is the _matter_ with you?" She was crying again, and dropped her head, biting back the many more insults she had for him. He did not move or say anything, simply sitting there with his head turned to the side from the strength of her hand. After a moment, she composed herself, and raised her eyes to look at him again. "I _swear_ to you," she whispered quietly, "I _will not_ allow that to happen."

He looked up at her, forlorn; she reached forward and grabbed his face, the magic of her spoken bind encasing his mouth with a muzzle, preventing him from saying anything else.

Slowly, she stood and turned around, trying to ignore the wide range of emotions in the eyes of her allies. "So, then. Tell me, what is this shawarma?"

Tony grinned. "Hold that thought; let me go slip into something more comfortable." He turned and headed for the opposite side of the room, patting Hulk's arm as he passed. "You should think about doing the same, big guy."

Hulk grunted, looking around at all of them, his gaze finally landing on Sága. She smiled, returning to his side and placing a hand on his chest. "You have saved the earth, and New York City. And you have saved my life once again." She rose to the tips of her toes and softly kissed his jaw, the highest she could reach. "Thank you, Hulk."

He exhaled heavily, blowing the hair out of her face, eyeing her carefully. He patted her on the head. Soon, his eyes started to turn brown again, and his body began to shrink, much more quickly than it had in the warehouse. The next moment, Bruce Banner stood before her, looking mildly confused and trying to hold the remains of his pants up. His other hand was still on her head. His body sagged, and he fell against her.

Surprised, she instinctively wrapped her arms around him, trying not to blush at his naked chest and the knowledge that everyone's eyes were on them.

"You're still here," he sighed, dangerously close to her ear, his breath hot against her neck.

She smiled, gripping him even more tightly. "Of course I am. I told you I would be. Always."


	14. I've Been Looking For You

Author's Note: Hello again! Do you guys listen to The Features? I listened to them while writing this chapter. They're really good. Really great background music for writing. I just love 'em.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling. Rest assured, this is still not the end. I'm planning on at least two, maybe three more chapters after this one. I can't believe how close we are... I'm really, truly going to miss writing this story. Thank you so much for sticking with me so far! Hope you like this latest addition! I think you will...

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Chapter Fourteen: _I've Been Looking for You_

Sága busied herself by removing the leather straps from about her arms and legs as they waited for Tony and Bruce to return. The latter had not seemed particularly thrilled at the prospect of borrowing Tony's clothes; but as the waistband of his pants had been pulled to shreds and his shirt was in a pile of useless scraps somewhere in downtown Manhattan, he didn't have much choice. Fortunately the two were about the same size, and Natasha mentioned that Stark maintained a number of different wardrobes for different occasions—though how she was aware of such information, Sága didn't really want to know—so a single set of clothes would be no great loss.

As the restrictive leather fell away, Sága heaved a sigh of relief. She had taken up wearing this preliminary armor during the past year as a precaution. Without her voice, she could not don her own armor nor wield her sword. It left her uncomfortably vulnerable, and she had come up with this as a way to quell her father's concerns. She hadn't realized how much she missed the freedom of her magic. With a grin, she considered lighting the pile of leather and iron aflame.

She soon thought better of it, not particularly wanting to explain such actions to the others. She stretched her arms far above her head, fighting back the tension that had begun to settle in her shoulders. As she shook out her arms, she realized she had forgotten Bruce's jacket back at the warehouse.

She glanced out through the window; it was still there, in the bottom of the crater they had left in the center of the mess they had made from the roof.

She could hear Bruce and Tony still arguing over clothes, and none of the others were paying her any mind (except for Loki, whose eyes kept darting over to her from time to time). She could be there and back without anyone noticing she had even gone.

With a grin, she pulled a bit more magic from the Tesseract, able to handle a larger dose now that she wasn't feeling quite so weak. Yes, that would be more than enough. She opened her mouth and closed her eyes.

She felt the ground shift beneath her feet, and looked down to see the stones and metal beams. She scrambled over bricks, snatching up the jacket and slipping it on as she caught the sound of police sirens nearby. _Oops… Is it really 6:00 already?_

She laughed, letting the sound wrap around her as she vanished, mere moments before an officer would enter the warehouse.

Just as she suspected, no one noticed her disappearance except for Loki, who watched her reappear with a furrowed brow. She just shrugged, not quite in the mood to explain herself to him right now.

Thankfully, Bruce and Tony were ready very shortly after.

Sága felt heat rise to her cheeks as they stepped into the room, feeling particularly grateful to Stark. Bruce looked…_really good_ in dark colors, and clothes that actually fit him. He caught the way she was looking at him for a moment, before dropping his eyes and nervously rolling up the sleeves.

"So, uh… We're really doing this, then?" he asked.

"For the hundredth time, _yes_," Stark affirmed. "We can all fit in the Escalade. Come on."

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "It's not about the _fit_, Tony! We can't just… What're we gonna do with _him_?" He gestured toward Loki, and everyone turned to look at the god of mischief. He had not left his spot on the floor, and was glaring at all of them with unconcealed hatred.

Thor strode forward, twirling his hammer in his hand. "My brother won't be going anywhere," he assured them. There was time enough for Loki to roll his eyes in clear annoyance, and then he was flat on his back, Mjolnir resting on his chest.

Sága raised a fist to her mouth, struggling to conceal a laugh. Tony didn't bother concealing his. "There, see? Problem solved. Let's go."

Bruce opened his mouth, struggling to find another excuse for why this was a bad idea. Sága didn't give him a chance, stepping over to him and taking his hand in hers. "Come on, I'm hungry," she told him, beginning to pull him to the elevator. He followed with a sigh, but laced his fingers through hers anyway.

"Gee, why didn't I think of that?" Tony muttered as the rest of them crammed into the service elevator.

They rode over in silence, all staring out the windows at the destruction, dreading the months—if not years—of cleanup to come.

The "joint" Tony had found them was surprisingly still operational, though an entire wall had been blown out. The husband and wife who owned the place were solemnly trying to clean the place up and put it back together; but when they spotted the ragged band of warriors, they ushered them in excitedly, praising and thanking them profusely and offering their food for free.

Shawarma was a strange-looking meal, but Sága found it to be a savory and delicious combination of flavors. They all ate quickly and wordlessly, and probably much more than the owners had expected them to. Rather than be annoyed, however, they seemed delighted that the "Avengers" were so pleased with the food.

As they prepared to leave, Sága went up to the wife and asked if she could have two to go.

"What, can't get enough?" Tony teased, but she just shrugged.

"Loki will need to eat as well."

That did not go over well. Barton and Rogers were adamant that they did not owe him anything, and that he did not deserve to be fed. Sága and Thor asserted that, though a prisoner, he must still be treated as a living being.

Surprising everyone, Natasha placed a hand on Barton's arm and told him she thought Sága was right. "You're right, Clint; he doesn't deserve it. But we can't let him starve. And anyway, you saw him. He looks like shit."

Barton frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine. But I sure as Hell am not feeding him."

During the ride back, they discussed who would take Loki his food. Sága, of course, because it was clear he would not dream of trying to hurt her. Thor would also go, as only he could lift Mjolnir. Bruce, also, volunteered to go. After the beating Hulk had given him, it was unlikely that Loki would dare try to oppose him.

The others got off the elevator at a different floor, Tony telling them that there were a few guest rooms that hadn't been damaged that they could use. He pointed them out to the three who continued traveling up to the top floor, for their use once they finished with Loki.

Loki watched them approach, looking bored, and clearly not having moved from under the hammer. Thor strode forward and lifted Mjolnir, returning it to its side.

Seeing the hate burning in Loki's eyes, Sága placed a hand on Thor's arm and said softly, "Perhaps it would be better for you to wait outside, my prince."

Thor looked heartbroken, but saw the sense in her words and went out to the balcony to watch as the city began to pull itself together after the attack.

Bruce stood off to the side with his arms crossed, watching Loki's every movement.

Sága knelt beside him, passing her hands over his bonds and muzzle, releasing him. "We brought you something to eat," she told him, holding out the bag of food and helping him to sit up.

He ate in silence, and she did not speak either, choosing to just sit and listen to the sounds of the city below. Eventually, Loki set aside the plastic knife and fork, keeping his eyes trained on the food as he addressed her. "I see you've met your beast, Sághildr."

She frowned. "Do not call him that; he is more a man than anyone I have ever known." She bit her lip as he winced. She had not meant that as an attack on him, though he clearly interpreted it as such. Before she could open her mouth to apologize, Loki nodded and spoke again.

"And I take it that the two of you share some…affection?"

"We do," Bruce answered for her with a growl.

She looked up at him and blushed, pleasantly surprised that he admitted it so readily. "Yes, we do." Bruce's gaze softened as he looked at her with that crooked grin of his. "Someday, when we are able to speak freely with each other, I will tell you all about it. That is, unless they have your mouth sewn shut again," she teased, hoping Loki would take the bait.

When he glanced up at her with a smirk, she knew he had. "You remember that?"

She laughed softly. "Of course I do! How could I possibly have forgotten finding you, knocking on my door, eyes wide and lips sewn together? Oh, how you glared when I laughed!"

He even gave a bit of a chuckle. "No one else would even consider cutting me free. It was worth it, though."

She smiled, thinking of how he had held out Sif's golden hair to her, and how they had never stopped teasing her when it grew back black as night. "I still have it, you know? Her hair. In my trunk at home."

"Do you really?" He laughed. "I would not have thought you would keep such an obscene token."

She pulled her knees up to her chest, tucking them under her chin. "Of course I kept it. After all you went through, just to get her back for what she said to me… That was the first time someone ever defended me. We were so young, then…" She hesitated, closing her eyes, and whispered, "_What happened_?"

Loki was silent for a long time, and she did not think he would answer her. She started collecting his trash, and made to stand before he spoke up. "I suppose that I missed you, Sága. Everyone knows; you were always the best part of me. I am…truly lost without you."

She sighed, rising slowly to her feet and going to throw his trash away. As she returned, he held out his hands, allowing her to replace his bonds without struggle.

Before she could muzzle him again, he asked her a last question, keeping his eyes on the floor. "Will you ever be able to forgive me for what I've done?"

She fell to her knees beside him, trying not to let herself cry. "_Oh_, Loki… I already _have_. You are my friend, and I love you; and if you even have to ask such a thing, then I have done a very poor job of showing it. It should be me asking for your forgiveness, that I could not keep you from such despair."

He looked up at her, and there were tears in his eyes, something she had only very rarely seen from him. "I do not deserve you," he whispered.

Slowly, she raised her hand to his mouth, replacing his muzzle. "Perhaps not. But you're stuck with me."

She rose on unsteady legs, and called out to Thor, who stepped back inside and took Loki by the arm, pulling him up to his feet. "He will stay the night in my chambers," Thor promised, gripping his hammer. Sága nodded, and watched them step into the elevator.

She covered her face with a hand as the elevator doors closed, suddenly feeling very tired. Immediately, Bruce's arms were around her, pulling her close, and she tucked her face into the crook of his neck. God, he was so warm…

"Are you alright?" he murmured into her hair.

She nodded. "I am now. Thank you, Bruce." He kissed her forehead softly, and she stayed pressed against him for several minutes.

Eventually, reluctantly, she pulled away from him. "We should head downstairs," she suggested, and he nodded, taking her hand and leading her into the elevator.

They rode down in silence, and walked together to one of the rooms Tony had told them about. She knocked on the door and, receiving no reply, opened it to make sure it was unoccupied.

"A-alright, well, uh…goodnight, I guess, and I'll just see you in the mor—" Bruce began, but she held onto his hand and pulled him back to her and into the room.

"Where do you think you're going?" she breathed, and placed her lips on his.

He responded immediately, kicking the door closed and running his tongue along her lips. She opened her mouth to him, moaning as his tongue wrestled against hers, his hands frantically trying to push his blazer off of her shoulders. She reluctantly removed her fingers from his hair, shucking the jacket quickly so she could wrap her arms around his neck. She pulled him even closer, and moaned as his big, warm hands slid beneath her tunic, running along the smooth skin of her sides.

He pulled away first, gasping for breath as he rested his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes, relishing in the feel of his breath against her cheeks.

"I didn't want to assume…" he murmured softly, and she laughed breathlessly. His hands hadn't stopped moving, and it was making it hard to think. She was overcome with a desire to run her fingers through the hair on his chest once more, and she gripped the collar of his shirt.

"Assume away," she told him, pulling the shirt open with force, the buttons clattering to the floor as she pushed it open and placed her hands on his exposed skin. He growled, pinning her up against the wall as he placed his lips on hers again.

* * *

Afterward, they lay tangled together in the bed, her head on his chest and his hand running through her hair. It was dusk outside, and the first stars were beginning to shine through the window, the soft light casting a gentle glow about the room.

Sága couldn't remember ever feeling so safe or so…happy.

Eventually, the hand in her hair stilled. She assumed it meant that he had fallen asleep, and she nuzzled her face against his chest with a contented sigh. But then he took a deep breath, and whispered, "Where have you been all my life?"

She glanced up at him with a grin, and kissed him softly before resuming her spot just above his heart. "I've been looking for you."

He pulled her even closer, pulling the covers higher. Exhausted, they drifted off to sleep.


	15. If Any Good May Come Of This

Author's Note: Alright, hey! Here we go! Ugh, this one gave me some trouble. I think I finally figured it out, though, and I think you'll like it! Hopefully the next won't be quite so difficult to write.

Anyway, thank you guys so much for all of the reviews/favorites! I cannot express how great an impact your reviews are having on my writing and on my life! Please keep it up, you are fantastic and I love you!

**Edit: **Oh gosh guys, I'm sorry! I forgot to inform you that this is **NOT** the final chapter! Don't despair! I'm planning on at least two more of these suckers before I call it quits. While I have those two very rigidly planned out, I am certainly not opposed to adding more after that, so if you have any ideas or suggestions of things you'd like to see, please leave me a review (or I guess they're called comments now? I need to pay better attention) or send me a PM and I'll see what I can do!

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: _If Any Good May Come of This_

Bruce Banner woke up, disoriented, confused, and wondering why he was naked…again.

He raised a hand to rub the sleep from his eyes, freezing when something moved against him. His eyes snapped open, and he looked down. At the sight of that familiar mess of white hair, his memory of the previous night flooded back in a rush. That hadn't been a dream..!

Sága was curled up against him, one arm loosely draped around his waist. Her eyes were closed, her even breaths brushing over his chest.

He shuddered, reminded of the sounds she had made last night; the way that white light of her magic had poured out of her mouth with a moan, floating above their heads as they both watched with wide eyes; the way she had flushed with embarrassment. "I've…never done _that_ before," she had admitted with a sheepish grin. And he had grinned wickedly, determined to make her do it again. And she _had_…

With a groan, he tried not to think about the way it had felt when she had breathed that light into his kiss, her magic rushing through his body like nothing he had ever felt before.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing himself from the memory of last night and back to the present. Oh, God…

He glanced around, spotting the pants Stark had let him borrow, on the floor all the way on the other side of the room. His shirt was still by the door, but he doubted Tony would be wanting that back without the buttons. Oh, no, he'd have to explain that to Tony…

He would deal with that when it came up. For now, he needed to get out of this bed.

She was still asleep. And if she woke up and looked at him with even the minutest hint of regret in her eyes…

No. He could not bear such disappointment. He just _couldn't_.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, wondering if he could find his way to a kitchen of some sort. If she woke without regret, he could apologize and tell her he only left to make her breakfast. And if she did…well, it would be much easier to avoid her from there. He began to pull away, trying to slide out from under her arm without her noticing.

"_No…_" Her arm around him tightened, and she raised her head to look at him, eyes void of any regret, but full of…fear. "Please don't go," she whispered.

He froze, wondering why she seemed so afraid, his cursed analytical mind wasting valuable time trying to understand, before the answer hit him like Mjolnir to the jaw. _She's scared for the same reason that you are, Banner. She's afraid _you _won't want _her!

He could've slapped himself for making her think he was sneaking out; but instead he put his hands to better use, wrapping his arms around her body and drawing her to him, burying his fingers in her hair, trying to make her _feel _how badly—desperately—he wanted to be there with her. "I'm sorry," he tried to explain, "I-I thought maybe you…might wake up feeling…_differently_, uh, than you had last night. I thought you might not want to see me."

She gave a thin, high-pitched laugh, a pretty blush spreading across her cheeks. "Oh, what a…ridiculous thing to think!" Her smile was sheepish, and he knew that she was reprimanding herself as much as him. He grinned, happier than he'd felt in _years_.

"It is, isn't it?" he agreed, leaning in and pressing his lips against hers. She sighed, kissing him back with growing desire, letting her hands wander all over his body.

Eventually she pulled away, albeit reluctantly, and looked up at him with a smile. "I need to take a shower," she informed him, golden eyes sparkling. "Would you care to join me?"

He grinned. "Yeah, I think I would."

She laughed, pulling away from him and sliding out of the bed. He made to get out after her, but froze on the spot, completely entranced by the sight of her slender, nude form walking fluidly across the room. It had been dark last night; but now, seeing her in the full light of the morning sun shining in through the window, he was dumbstruck.

This _goddess_ had been in _his_ bed, was inviting _him _to join her in the shower, and was now looking at _him_, completely oblivious to the effect she was having and wondering why he was taking so long. Nothing in his life had prepared him for something like this.

He cleared his throat, muttering apologies and scrambling out of the bed. He was halfway to her when a knock sounded on the door, and Tony Stark's voice called out, "Hey, are you awake in there? Get up!"

Bruce sighed, passing a hand over his face. "I'll get it…"

Sága grinned, ducking into the bathroom. "I'll get the water warmed up. Join me when you get rid of him," she added with a wink before shutting the door. He heard the water come on, and cursed Tony Stark under his breath as he went to fetch those pants and pull them on.

Stark was still pounding on the door when he opened it, trying not to show his annoyance.

"Oh, good, you're up. Listen, Fury's here, and he—wait…" Stark trailed off, narrowing his eyes at Bruce. He gave a quick, exasperated sigh before addressing the AI that essentially ran the entire building—if not the company. "Jarvis, I thought you said this was Sága's room."

"Yes, sir; this is where Ms. Sághildr stayed the night."

"Then what's Bruce do—_wait_…" Tony trailed off again, piecing it together, his brilliant mind clearly working slower than usual after so little sleep. Finally he seemed to get it, giving a great gasp, eyes widening, and a dangerously large grin spreading over his face. Bruce slammed the door on him.

"No, hey, come on, don't be like that!" he called, resuming his incessant pounding on the door. "Come _on_, seriously, I gotta talk to you guys! Open the door!"

Bruce put his face in his hands, wanting more than anything to lock the door and go join Sága and _not_ have this conversation. But Stark had mentioned Fury, and if the director of SHIELD really was here, this might actually be important.

"Come on, Bruce! I won't say anything! Just open the door!"

With a long, heavy sigh, Bruce opened the door slowly, fixing him with a glare.

"Thank you. I said I wouldn't say anything, so I won't, but just… _Damn_, Bruce, way to go." Bruce sighed, moving to close the door again, before Tony stopped him. "Alright, I'm sorry, that's the last thing, scout's honor! Being totally serious now. Is Sága in there?"

"She's in the shower," Bruce told him bitterly, wishing more than anything he was there with her, though the chances of that happening now were beginning to look slim.

"_Oh_… Sorry. Look, Fury's upstairs, top floor, wants to speak to all of us a.s.a.p. about what happens next. Says he's gonna let us make whatever decision we choose, he just wants to know what that decision is. He mentioned Sága specifically; seems really keen on talking to her. D'you mind passing the message along?"

Bruce ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I can do that. Hey, uh…could I borrow another shirt?" he asked, holding up the one from last night, along with a handful of buttons. "This one, uh…well…"

Tony's eyes widened, and the huge grin was back; but to his credit, he didn't say anything except for, "_Damn_! I mean, uh, yeah, you can borrow another shirt. Come on." He gestured for Bruce to follow.

"Okay, hang on, let me just tell her…" He shut the door again (mostly to prevent Stark from trying to spy) and stepped into the bathroom.

He could see the outline of her body through the shower curtain and the steam, and cursed Tony Stark for the hundredth time that morning. "Hey, Sága, uh…"

"Yes, I know, I heard," she called sweetly. He chuckled, having forgotten about her hearing. "I'll just meet you upstairs, alright? Oh, and tell Tony I'm sorry about the shirt."

He laughed. "Yeah, I'll be sure to do that. See you upstairs."

* * *

Director Fury eyed her carefully as she exited the elevator, dressed again in her leggings and tunic, still drying her hair with a towel. Everyone else was already here, and they had thankfully started the arguing without her. Admittedly, she had taken her own sweet time getting up here; she owed nothing to this man, and had very little to contribute to the decision-making process. And, she suspected she knew why he wanted to speak with her in the first place. It was not a conversation she was looking forward to, and had wanted the time to collect her thoughts.

Thor and Barton were arguing adamantly with no sign of giving up while Natasha and Steve tried to break it up, and instead found themselves in an argument of their own. Director Fury stepped up beside her casually. "May I speak with you, somewhere quieter?" he asked. She nodded, and he guided her away from the noise and out to the balcony, stepping through the empty pane that had once been a window before Hulk crashed through.

Sága glanced over her shoulder; Bruce and Tony were following them closely, concern written all over their faces. She smiled at them reassuringly. "This is far enough, Director. What would you like to speak about?"

The man eyed Stark and Banner with a frown, but did not ask them to leave. She knew it would be good for them to know, and he knew it would be, too. Fury turned to face her, his feet spread wide and his hands clasped behind his back. "I believe you already know. The late Agent Coulson spoke with you earlier, expressing our desire to keep you on staff."

Sága frowned; she hadn't known that Coulson had passed, and wondered how it happened. She had liked him very much. "He may have mentioned it."

Fury gestured back to the heated debate inside. "Thor seems very adamant that Loki will return to Asgard. I won't argue with him on that. Honestly, I'd much rather let you all take care of that mess so I don't have to. But if Thor takes Loki back to Asgard, that puts us in a bit of a bind, should something of this magnitude come up again—and I have a good feeling that it _will_. We need someone who is capable of communication with Asgard, who can help us get in touch with Thor; he's too much of an asset to this team, and if we—"

Sága held up her hand for silence, and he granted it. "Please, don't try to manipulate me, Director Fury. I have analyzed every angle of the position this has put you in. I assure you, I don't need your assistance in realizing just how much you need my help." She sighed, looking away from the tower and out over the city, where rescue crews were already beginning to put things to rights.

"Humanity once considered us to be gods, Director Fury. I believe we became…accustomed to your praise, and assured of our position of superiority. We became complacent, and stagnant. While humanity continued to grow and excel and exceed all expectations, we stayed the same. In many ways, Midgard is now on par with Asgard; perhaps you have even surpassed us in certain aspects. If any good may come of this, I pray that it is a partnership of our two realms. That is a partnership that I was born into; one that I would be honored to more closely participate in."

She turned to face Director Fury once again, watching Bruce from the corner of her eye. "I must return to Asgard with Princes Thor and Loki, to ensure the justice of the latter's punishment there. But, as soon as I am able, I will gladly return to Midgard," here she turned to fully face Bruce and Tony, "…if you'll have me."

Tony positively beamed, stepping forward and grabbing her in a tight hug. "Of course! You can live _here_! I'll keep a close eye on you, show you the sights… We could employ you at Stark Industries! Dunno what you could do. We'll make up a position for you. I'll get Pepper right on that when she gets back. Yeah, you can probably see everything from up here! We can make you like your own little lookout tower, all windows at the very top, so you can…"

Tony kept babbling on, and she quickly tuned him out. She glanced over his shoulder, catching Bruce's eye. He gave her that trademark crooked grin, and she smiled back, not even trying to fight the blush that covered her cheeks or the joy that filled her heart at the prospect of finally having a place to call home…and someone to come home _to_.


	16. Delay

Author's Note: What is this? Another chapter? Oh my goodness. Well, alright, the sun's almost coming up and I'm still awake, so I'll keep this short. Had a lot of fun writing from Tony's POV (well, I say fun. That part was actually really sad and difficult to write), and I made an attempt at Thor's POV again. Let me know how I did!

You guys are wonderful, and I love you. Thank you for staying with me so far, and keep an eye out for the next chapter coming soon!

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: _Delay_

Tony Stark stumbled into the kitchen and fished an ice pack out of the freezer. He held it up against his throbbing jaw, hissing at the cold and pressure. Jarvis poured him a glass of water as he unscrewed a bottle of painkillers. One ought to do it.

Better take two.

He downed the pills and water in one gulp, bitterly congratulating himself. He'd finally managed to piss Bruce off enough to change into the Hulk.

He raised a holographic screen from the counter, switching over to the video feed from the basement. In his defense, pushing Bruce over the edge hadn't been _entirely _his doing.

The first month after the gods had returned to Asgard, he'd been fine. Cheery, even, patiently awaiting her return. But then two months had gone by without a word, and his mood began to shift. He had become depressed and irritable and withdrawn. He'd begun making occasional trips down to the basement in the middle of the night, sealing himself in where he couldn't hurt anyone or break anything, and letting off some steam.

After the third month, it had become a weekly routine. But this time was off the schedule.

Tony watched the Hulk thrash around, throwing himself against walls and pounding on the floor. Tony had watched the footage of all of his trips to the Hulk-proof vault. He'd never been this aggressive before.

That was probably Tony's fault. He couldn't even remember exactly what he'd said to set him off. It hadn't been intentional; he never really meant any of the stupid crap he said. That was what he _did_, using sarcasm to mask whatever emotions he didn't want to feel. But he was Tony Stark, which allowed him (or, more accurately, Pepper) to deflect the consequences of his words almost every time.

This wasn't one of those times.

Bruce had punched him, right in the face. For a moment, time had seemed to stand still. They had stared at each other in surprise, before Bruce broke and ran out of the lab. He had changed as he ran, barreling through halls and doorways, the Hulk remembering where to go so he could be safe, the doors sealing behind him.

Tony pulled the screen out of the counter and headed across the marble floor to sprawl across one of the leather couches, readjusting his ice pack. The numbness was beginning to edge out the pain.

The Hulk wasn't frantic anymore. He was sitting cross-legged in the center of the floor, holding his head in his giant hands, breathing rapidly and heavily.

Agent Romanoff said that he'd gone a year without "an incident" before they'd called him in to help with the Tesseract.

Three months and a broken heart had reduced him to this.

There was no telling how long he just sat there, watching the Hulk cry. Eventually, he began to shrink, the color began to fade. Dr. Bruce Banner laid flat on his back on the cement floor. Not even the Hulk could protect him from his sorrow this time, and the despair on his face made Tony toss the screen aside. He lurched off of the couch and up to his feet, clenching his jaw in fury, ignoring the jolt of pain it caused. He stomped over to the elevator, punching in his personal code to speed him to the top floor, and stepped out onto the balcony, glaring at the sky.

"I know you're up there, Sága. I know you can hear me. I _know_ you can fucking _see this_. What I don't know…is what's taking you so long. I don't know _how_ you could let this go on. I don't know _why_. But it had better be a good reason."

He stomped over to the doorway, pulling out another screen and finding the feed of Bruce again. He held the screen up to the sky. "You had better have a _damn good reason _for _this_!"

For once in his life, Tony Stark couldn't think of anything else to say. He just stood there, holding the screen up to the sky, lost for words. He adjusted his ice pack and lowered his arm, looking more closely at the video. The look of apathy on his friend's face was far worse than the misery had been.

"…Jarvis?" Bruce's voice was tired and broken, made to sound even more so from the distortion of the video.

"Yes, Dr. Banner?"

"Jarvis, can you…can you tell Tony I'm alright now?"

"Of course, Dr. Banner. Right away."

"And Jarvis, tell him… Tell him I'm…sorry."

"I'm certain that he knows, Doctor."

"Yeah… Tell him anyway."

"Of course."

Tony slammed the screen back into its slot on the wall, to keep himself from throwing it over the side of the balcony. "Don't bother, Jarvis, I heard him."

"Very well, sir."

He made to head inside, but hesitated, and turned to face the sky instead. "You had better have a damn good reason for doing this to him," he whispered. "Because if not, I swear… I swear on my _father_… I will find a way to goddamn Asgard. I've never hit a woman before. I'd make an exception for this."

He spun on his heel and stomped inside, tossing the ice pack away, not caring where it landed. He took the elevator straight down to the basement, punched in the code to release the seal. Bruce didn't move from his spot on the floor, didn't open his eyes until Tony was standing over him, holding a hand out to help him up. He allowed himself to be heaved up to his feet, and then they just stood there for a moment, neither one sure what to do.

"Come on," Tony finally said, putting his hand on his shoulder, "Let's find you another shirt." He nodded, not making eye contact, and they stepped into the elevator together. "Listen, I know you usually don't, but… D'you want a drink?"

Bruce was silent for a long time, before finally running a hand through his hair. "…Yeah."

* * *

Thor approached the rainbow bridge, surprised to find Heimdall drinking mead at the base of the bridge, along the shore. "Good Heimdall," he called out, acquiring the guardian's attention. "You are not at your usual post. Is everything alright?"

The guardian nodded. "It's my daughter. She has requested to assume my position for the night."

"Then why are you not resting, my friend?"

The man chuckled, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. "She assured me she would keep close watch over the gate. And, not surprisingly…she lied." The smile fell from his face. "She misses him."

Thor frowned. He knew his friend had become very attached to the Midgardian doctor, and intended to return there to see him. But she had not mentioned it to him since they had arrived on Asgard. "…I will go and speak with her."

Heimdall nodded. "Thank you, Prince Thor. I think she would like that."

He strode to the end of the bridge, walking slowly, in no hurry. He did not want to startle her. When he finally spotted her at the end, he found that there was no cause to fear it. She had her knees tucked under her chin and arms wrapped around her legs, and did not notice him at all until he sat down beside her.

She hurriedly wiped at her eyes once she saw him.

Thor was shocked, not sure what to do. He had never seen Sága cry before. "What is wrong, my friend?" he asked softly. She hid her face in her hands, and for a long time he didn't think that she would answer him at all.

"I have been away for too long. He has…stopped believing that I will return at all."

Thor frowned. "A man who would doubt _your_ loyalty, Sága, would not deserve you!"

"He does not know me as you do, Thor! I was only with him for a few days; not nearly long enough to prove myself."

"We need you here! You have been invaluable in the task of rounding up the Chitauri—"

"He needs me _more_!" she sobbed, tears falling anew. "Oh, Thor… I need him, too."

He held her then, and she cried against his chest.

"I did not realize he was so important to you…" Thor began, but it only made her sob harder, and he regretted it immediately. He rubbed her back, attempting to be soothing. Admittedly, he had very little experience with crying women.

When she began to calm herself, he spoke again. "Come, now. There must be something to be done. I will speak with my father, and convince him to lift the restriction on your magic. This senseless punishment has gone on long enough. I will do whatever it takes, do you hear me? _Whatever_ it takes to get you back to him. I swear that to you."

She looked up at him, eyes wide and searching, before turning to look back out toward Midgard. "I could never repay you for such a thing, my prince."

"And you would certainly never need to."

* * *

A feast was thrown in Sága's honor, and it seemed that all of Asgard was in attendance. Even Prince Loki had been released from his cell, though his hands and feet remained bound and he would stay under Thor's protection for the duration of the evening.

But even Loki could not hide the look of pride in his eyes when Sághildr strode into the room, dressed in her usual leather leggings and a black tunic of the finest silk and her milk-white armor, and knelt before the throne.

Frigga herself had placed the golden circlet on her head, and draped a golden cloak across her shoulders, as the All-Father named her Guardian of Midgard.

No one's applause was louder than that of Heimdall, who had left his post to be here for his daughter's ceremony.

The banquet had begun then, with dancing and feasting and plenty of mead.

It was unlike any celebration Thor had ever attended before. With his hand on Loki's shoulder, and his brother sending murderous glares about the room, no one had the courage to approach them except for Lady Sif and the Warriors Three—though even they only managed it for short periods of time.

Meanwhile, Sága was floating about the room, praised and embraced by those who had previously glared at her in the street and whispered behind her back. But she took it all in stride, smiling and laughing and acting very…un-Sága-like.

Finally, she managed to drift her way over to the lonely corner where Loki and Thor stood drinking. Her pretty smile dropped rapidly as she approached, and she suddenly looked weary and strained.

"My friends," she called, though her voice was far too sad to be addressing friends. "Please, can you help me?"

"Of course." They were the first words Loki had spoken all night, and Sága attempted a smile.

"I can hear him," she said, suddenly looking dazed as though she was seeing and hearing things a million miles away. She probably was. Thor gently touched her elbow, and she started, looking around with wide eyes. "I must go _now_. He… I cannot delay any longer. I need you to explain my absence, make my apologies… I've already said my goodbyes to my father, but I don't have time…"

"Go to him, my friend," Thor ordered with a nod.

Beside him, Loki spoke up. "We will cover for you."

She grinned, stepping forward and kissing first Thor, then Loki on the cheek. "Thank you, my friends. We will meet again soon."

The words whirled around her, spinning faster and faster, brighter and brighter, until she vanished entirely.


	17. Promises

Author's Note: Hello! Don't scroll away just yet; I have three very important things to tell you:

First, you may have noticed that I've changed the rating from 'T' for 'M'. I don't think I've written anything terribly graphic or explicit, but I just want to be safe. I consider the end of this chapter to be a bit borderline, so I've decided to err on the side of caution.

Second, **this is not the end! **I've decided to add at least one more chapter, an epilogue of sorts. I'm also giving serious consideration to creating a new story to hold any snippets of Bruce/Sága (Braga, if you will...) interaction and all-around fluff that I was unable to add here. So, again, if you have any suggestions or things you'd like to see, please let me know and I'll try to accommodate those!

And third, I should point out that the beginning of this chapter is influenced by an article I read called "Why Loki Won in The Avengers", which suggests that Joss Whedon has managed to write the perfect Xanatos Gambit (and thus ensured more movies to be made). It's a very convincing article, and well worth a read. In fact, you might even consider reading that first (I promise it's short and quick). If you want the exact url, just let me know and I will direct you to it.

So that's the major stuff. Be aware that the final lines of this chapter are completely silly and ridiculous and dumb and I know that, but I like it so it stays. Also, be looking out for the _real_ final chapter, which I hope to bring to you soon. I love you! Please enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: _Promises_

Loki grinned into his goblet of mead. This was entirely too easy.

Feigning his compliance had been nothing but a game, feeding them information about the remnants of the Chitaurian army—where they would be, and how strong were their numbers. While these fools were busy searching and fighting and bringing them to Asgard to account for their crimes, Loki was busy thinking and plotting and planning, ensuring his future success.

It stung to watch Sághildr leave, heading back to Midgard to be with her green beast. Such a horrid creature could never hope to deserve her; but Loki would allow it for now, a convenient reason to keep Sága away from Asgard. She knew him too well, and was entirely too suspicious of his willingness to help, even in her state of distraction and longing for that creature. And he knew that things would get dangerous in Asgard, once his plan came to fruition, and he did not want her hurt. Now that she was gone, that time could be soon.

Oh, yes. It was utterly amusing how they believed him defeated, how proud they were to have thwarted his attempt to conquer Midgard. They were fools to think he had ever had more than a passing interest in that inferior realm. It would have been much more convenient to return to Asgard in the splendor of victory and with Midgard—and thus the human female Jane—as a bargaining chip against Thor and the All-Father. Yet even without such luxuries, and even though he was bound in chains, he had still _returned to Asgard_.

And with Sága defending him before Odin, and adamantly asserting the supposed danger should he be released from the protection of the court, Asgard was where he would stay.

It did not sit well with him, the way that he had abused and betrayed Sága's affection for him once again. Her concern for his safety made her contribute to his ongoing scheme. Surprisingly, he did not enjoy using her in such a way, though it came so easily with anyone else. It would seem that everything was disrupted when Sága was involved…

It was only made that much more difficult when he realized that SHIELD would doubtless have asked her to do the same, to use his affection for her to make him confess his plot, when he had placed himself in their custody. And she must have denied such a request.

He would allow her time with her beast, if for no other reason than to ease his own guilt. And doing so would keep her safe from the battle that was coming to Asgard.

Oh, yes, this was too easy. They thought they had disrupted his plan for revenge. They had served only to fuel it.

He would prove himself their equal—their _superior_. It wasn't about Midgard. It had _never _been about Midgard. Everything had led to this, to proving himself the worthy son of Odin.

And once he had assumed the throne of Asgard, he would slaughter that green beast like cattle for having placed its filthy hands on what was _his_.

* * *

Bruce Banner stood in the center of the bedroom, hands hanging at his sides, helpless.

Good God, he had punched Tony.

He placed his face in his hands, muffling the inhuman groan he gave as he tried to soothe the other guy.

Slowly but surely, Bruce was losing what little hold he had on himself. Something had to be done.

He rushed over to the closet, grabbing the duffel bag he'd stashed there and throwing it down on the bed. He tugged open drawers, haphazardly throwing his sparse new wardrobe into the duffel. He was grateful for all Tony had done for him: giving him a place to live in the Tower and a job within Stark Industries Research and Development; even paying him a salary, so he could purchase things on his own; providing him with a place that the other guy could go, a place that wasn't a cage, a place where he couldn't hurt anyone or break anything. He was particularly grateful for _that_.

And he had repaid Tony's kindness by punching him in the face.

He couldn't stay here.

It was a miracle that things hadn't turned out worse, that he hadn't changed sooner or more quickly. But he wasn't going to wait around until that happened. He needed to get out of here.

If…_she_…ever decided to return, she could come find him. But for now he'd find a place where nothing reminded him of her, and nothing could catch the other guy's attention, and nothing could set him off like that again.

For all his supposed genius, he couldn't fathom how he could have been so _stupid_. Sure, he was known to have fallen hard and fast, to have given his heart away far too easily; but that had been _before_, when he hadn't had such a strong reason to protect himself from the emotions tied to heartbreak.

Somehow _she_ and Tony had managed to pass through whatever carefully-constructed walls he had built around himself as though they were made out of mist—rather than out of years of disappointment and heartache and pain. They had forced their way into his life and left him reeling, because no one had wanted his friendship and affection just for the sake of it in such a long time.

He thought about returning to India, but knew he couldn't go back to that life again. That had been good, for a while, before. There he was surrounded by people who didn't know who or what he was and didn't care, helping those he could whenever he could.

But the feeling he got from helping the ill and elderly in Calcutta absolutely paled in comparison to what he'd felt,_ her_ arms around him as they'd raced to Manhattan to save the world. Working as a doctor would never be as meaningful or fulfilling as being an Avenger, and Bruce wasn't sure he could ever go back to the way things were before.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Bruce whirled around to find Tony standing in the doorway, arms crossed. "I was just, uh… I was just about to go for a walk."

"Yeah? That's a hell of a bag to take on a walk. Where were you planning on going, exactly?"

Bruce sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You know I can't stay here, Tony."

"Of course you can! Look, I know you're upset, okay? But she _is_ coming back. She promised."

Bruce laughed bitterly at the thought of someone actually keeping their promises to _him_. "That's fine. And when she decides to show up, she can come find me. Until then…"

"She's been gone for three months, I'm sure she'll be back soon—"

"_No!"_ the other guy yelled through Bruce's mouth, and he took a deep breath to calm him. Tony frowned, but didn't shrink back, and Bruce was once again reminded of how lucky and undeserving he was to have him as a friend. "Sorry. That…wasn't me."

"Yeah, I figured. I get it, you don't think she's coming back; and that's fine, believe whatever you want. But let me just say, you're an idiot."

Bruce frowned and opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Jarvis. "Excuse me, sir. Ms. Sághildr has just arrived on the roof."

Bruce's blood ran cold and he froze, his mind struggling to catch up. He said… She was…

He shoved past Tony and through the door, rushing for the elevator. Stark slid in beside him just before the doors slid closed, and Bruce slammed his hand on the button for the top floor, trying to control his agitation and keep from ripping the whole damn console off the wall. It wouldn't help anything, he told the other guy, trying to force him to be calm.

It seemed to take an eternity, but finally the doors slid open again, and he ran through and out to the balcony, skidding to a stop.

She had her back to him, but turned when she heard him approach. She looked…ethereal and impossible and beautiful, dressed in the leather leggings and boots he remembered, a black silk tunic, and her white armor. Her unruly white hair was being blown about her face by the wind. A golden crown was on her head, a long golden cape hung from her shoulders and nearly to the floor, and her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, which hung from her hip. There were dark bags under her eyes, and she looked at him with a strange mixture of hope and fear in her gold eyes, but she still looked gorgeous.

And he certainly didn't miss the large leather bag at her feet.

"Sorry I'm late," she told him softly. He wanted to say something, anything at all, but just kept staring at her dumbly.

"Where've you been?" Tony asked, nonchalant. Bruce hadn't even realized he was there.

She lowered her head humbly, trying to gather the words to explain. "I… We've been… By participating in this war, the Chitauri have stood in opposition to the peace of the nine realms, and thus have been called to account for their crimes. Unfortunately, many of their people have been noncompliant, and the king has sent out the warriors of Asgard to capture those rebels and bring them to trial."

Bruce's mind finally managed to catch up. "So you were…working?"

She glanced up at him, apology written all over her face. "It was an express order of the king. I had no choice."

They all fell into silence, processing and considering her words. Tony was the first to speak again. "So what's with the, uh…cloak?"

She looked up with a sheepish grin and a proud lift of her chin, rubbing her fingers over the fabric that Bruce suspected to be spun of actual gold. "Thor's idea to ensure my return. He convinced King Odin to appoint me to my father's position here on Earth. The king has honored me with the title of Guardian of Midgard."

Bruce took a step toward her. "W-what does that mean?"

She smiled softly. "It means that I have been relocated to Midgard, to protect it from threat with all the strength of Asgard." She bent over and gripped the bag at her feet, heaving it over her shoulder as she stood. "It means I'm here to stay."

A grin made its way across Bruce's face. Sága was here. Sága was _staying_.

"Good to have you back," Tony told her with a smirk. "Dr. Banner, why don't you show her to her room? I've gotta get ready. Date night," he told Sága with a wink. She laughed, with a shy glance at Bruce. He held his arm out to her, and she took it gently, a red tinge creeping up her cheeks.

* * *

Sága glanced around the familiar room, the same one they had shared when she was here before. She frowned, noting the wide-open drawers and the open closet full of clothes. "Is someone already living here?"

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his face flushed. "Yeah, uh…_ I_ am. I sort of…_assumed_."

She laughed, placing a hand on his arm. "I'm glad you did. Thank you." She stepped over to the bed, peering down at the bag there, overflowing with clothes tucked haphazardly inside. "What's this?" she asked softly.

He snatched up the bag, tossing it in the closet and shutting the door firmly. "Nothing. It's…nothing."

She frowned, hands clenching at her sides. "You didn't think I was coming back..?"

"No! No, I just, uh…" He looked down at the floor, running a hand through his hair. "I just… I'm sorry I doubted you."

She stepped forward, placing her palm against his warm cheek. "I'm sorry I gave you a reason to." She leaned in close, relishing in the feeling of his breath on her cheeks. "Let me make it up to you?"

He chuckled, but placed his hands on her waist and pushed her away just a fraction. "No, I don't… You don't need to make anything up to me, okay? I just…missed you. I was worried about you."

She ran her fingertips along his cheekbone. "I know. I…heard you."

He groaned, pressing his cheek into her palm, his eyes drifting closed. "I didn't mean any of that—"

She cut him off with a swift kiss. "Yes, you did. And you were right. I should have done whatever it took to return to you sooner, Bruce. But I promise you; I will never again willingly leave your side. They would have to drag me away from you."

He grinned, his hands sliding from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him and pressing his lips against hers. She moaned into his mouth, her fingers creeping into his hair. Oh, she'd missed his hair…

His lips were insistent, his tongue slipping into her mouth, tasting her and sliding against her tongue.

He pulled away, breathing heavily, resting his forehead against hers. He tugged at a plate of her armor, smirking. "How do I, uh..?"

She smiled, pulling away from him. She brushed at her shoulder, her armor and sword dissipating instantly. The gold cloak fell heavily to the floor, and she reached up and removed the circlet from her head, dropping it on top of the cloak.

Immediately, Bruce pulled her back to him, slipping his hands beneath her tunic, his fingers ghosting up her sides and over her ribs and brushing against her breasts, bunching up the black silk and then snatching it off of her. He tossed the tunic across the room, and then pressed his hot mouth against her neck.

She giggled breathlessly. "Oh, how I've missed you…" she whispered, pulling him back toward the bed.

Their first time together had been needy and frantic and desperate, full of the surprise and relief of victory, and the surprise and relief of having someone to love.

This was something completely different. This was gentle and meaningful and slow. This was recognition of just how deep their need for the other was. This was a realization that what they had was more than just a one-time fling. Every caress and every thrust and every moan was an apology, a prayer, and a promise.

This was a banishment of every fear and sorrow and longing the past three months had instilled.

And then they lay entwined together, entirely spent up in bringing the other the pleasure and relief and love they so desperately needed. Bruce laid his head on her shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of her neck; she held him close, running her fingers through his soft, dark hair.

"I will never leave you again. I promise I will always be here," she murmured into his ear.

His soft lips caressed the smooth skin of her neck, eliciting one last, magic-filled moan. She watched the white light slowly drift above them, feeling Bruce lips curve into a smile as he answered, "I know."

Two weeks later, Tony managed to rally the Avengers for a Star Wars movie marathon. Sága heard those two words repeated, spotted Bruce's quirky grin and the mischievous gleam in his eye, and finally understood the reference.


	18. Epilogue: White Magic

Author's Note: Wow. Here it is, you guys. I don't even know what to say, except thank you so much for giving me and this story a chance, and sticking with us until the end. It has truly been an honor.

I'm not giving up on these characters just yet, so I do plan on doing some serious work on Alone Together and the coming Bruce/Sága companion piece, so keep an eye out for those if you're interested. I'm also planning to go back through and edit the heck out of this story soon, to hopefully obliterate any errors that may be present.

Also, let me just say I'm sorry that the first half of this chapter is almost entirely blocks of text, while the second half is almost entirely fluff. I did what I could, and I sincerely hope that this doesn't disappoint. Thank you again, and I love you.

* * *

Epilogue: _White Magic__  
_

Sága hummed softly to herself, grabbing a whistling kettle off of the stove and pouring steaming water into two overlarge mugs. Many decades ago, when she was still prone to regular visits to Midgard, she had spent nearly an entire year traveling throughout Eurasia—particularly England, China, and India—and had learned the art of brewing the perfect cup of tea. The intricacies of the various coffeemakers Tony had installed around the tower continued to baffle her, and she had no objection to deferring such responsibilities to the faceless Jarvis. In all honesty, he made what she firmly believed to be the best cup of coffee in all the realms. But tea was simple and elegant and familiar, still made in much the same way as it always had been—though the arc reactor-powered stove had initially given her some grief—and she enjoyed making it. This was _hers_.

For all her pride and strength, magic had very little use here on earth—aside from the rare battles she fought alongside the Avengers, and the unceasing joy of sneaking up on Barton and vanishing before he could manage to loose an arrow. Occasionally, there were wounds that she could help to heal, though admittedly such healing magic had never been a strength of hers.

But with the exception of such occasions, her unique skill set was not entirely helpful here. She knew little of earth technology and customs (though her knowledge of human languages was rivaled only by Natasha Romanoff), and so could contribute very little to the day-to-day workings of Stark Industries.

Tony had named her as Head of Security for Stark Tower—and paid her what she suspected was a considerable amount of Midgardian currency (the understanding of which was another of her weaknesses. She was no longer allowed to go shopping unsupervised)—but given that the only members of tower security included herself and Jarvis, the title was merely a front to allow her to live there unquestioned. Likewise, Stark Tower itself was now a front for the Avengers headquarters.

Tony and Bruce stayed at the tower for obvious reasons.

Once they returned from their leave of absence in Budapest, Director Fury had assigned Agents Romanoff and Barton there to "supervise" Tony Stark and report back.

Steve Rogers was currently travelling the country, determined to see the changes America had undergone during his absence; while he had not yet done so, he had been adamant about returning to New York once his trip had ended.

They had all more or less taken up residence and jobs within Stark Tower, and Sága couldn't help but feel a bit…useless.

After what she had done to the motorcycle, Bruce and Tony had been ecstatic about the opportunity to experiment with her magic and examine its properties as an energy source. But aside from providing the material, she could do very, _very _little to help them in the lab.

Director Fury had seemed pleased to see her, and allowed her to keep the earpiece she had grown so fond of. But she was not sent on missions or asked to complete reports like Natasha and Clint were.

And even though she was determined to fulfill her duties as Head of Security, she had a difficult time operating Jarvis' interface and even understanding the technology behind his systems.

At times, it seemed like the only thing she could do was make tea.

So this was her routine: spend the day feeling massively inadequate; brew a pot of tea after most everyone had gone to bed; and then drink tea on the balcony outside, listening and watching out for potential threats and reminding herself that she was still useful.

Only tonight, she had a guest.

She discarded the tealeaves and took a sip from her mug. After adding a spoonful of sugar and just a hint of milk to each, she knew they were ready. With a grin, she carried both mugs outside, handing one over to the waiting Tony Stark.

"Took you long enough," he muttered under his breath, wrapping both hands around the mug to warm his fingers. She watched expectantly as he took his first sip, thoroughly pleased when he raised a single eyebrow in surprise. "Whoa. You weren't kidding," he acknowledged, taking another, much longer sip.

She smiled, taking her own hearty swallow and looking out over the city lights. "I told you."

He chuckled, resting his arms on the railing. "So this is what you do, huh? Just stand outside, with your tea…and look at stuff?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that," she laughed, "but essentially, yes."

"Hmmm. Seems boring. And _cold_. Though you probably don't notice that in your, uh…_glorious attire_," he teased.

She shot him a half-hearted glare. He seemed to hold some personal vendetta against her decision to wear long johns and Bruce's sweatshirts on a nightly basis. They kept her comfortable and warm, and she did not care to hear his endless tirades about Midgardian women's fashion. Even his last-ditch argument that Bruce would surely like to see her in something more presentable fell on deaf ears. Bruce was wholly unconcerned with what she wore; particularly at night, when their interactions tended to involve a distinct…_lack_ of clothing.

"It is getting cold," she conceded to him. "Asgard is always warm. Will it get much colder than this here?"

He nodded, smirking. "Oh, yeah. It'll get way worse."

She nodded in response, thinking. It had been a very long time since she had encountered a cold winter. She remembered them as harsh, dreadful things, but for some reason felt unusually excited for this one. "I hear that New York snow is the most beautiful sight in all of the nine realms."

"You've heard right," Tony agreed with a broad grin. "That's one of the reasons Pep and I decided to relocate. She loves snow."

Sága instinctively grinned at the mention of her new friend, Pepper. The woman was kind and hardworking, while smart and determined enough to keep the unruly Tony Stark in line. She was an impressive woman, though currently traveling to visit with relatives for the holiday season.

Thanksgiving was coming in a couple of weeks, with Christmas soon after. Pepper was determined to have all of the Avengers together to celebrate the holidays—even managing to convince an unwilling Natasha to join in—and thus had gone to see her family now, while she could.

"I like her," Sága admitted.

"Who, Pepper?" Tony chuckled softly. "I like her, too."

After that, they fell into companionable silence, drinking tea and watching the ever-present bustle of Manhattan.

But all good things must come to an end, and soon Jarvis' voice broke through their silence. "Excuse me, sir, Ms. Heimdalardóttir. It seems Dr. Banner has fallen asleep in the laboratory again."

Sága smirked at the thought, pushing away from the railing. Bruce had a tendency to get consumed in his work, often neglecting to eat or rest until he simply fell asleep from exhaustion. This would not normally be an issue; but Bruce also had a tendency toward nightmares that were capable of triggering his transformation. They had all learned first-hand that a sleepy, disoriented Hulk, newly awakened from a nightmare, was not nearly as fun as he sounded.

"Thank you, Jarvis. I'll go to him right away," she promised, stepping back inside the tower, Tony following her closely.

"Very good, Ms. Heimdalardóttir."

She groaned as Tony slipped into the elevator beside her, pressing the button to take them to one of the lower-level labs. Tony had needed a surname to put on all of her (forged) paperwork when he hired her. She knew now that she should have simply made something up, rather than give him her unwieldy Norse patronym. "Jarvis, _please_ stop calling me that. Override whatever Tony told you. I don't much enjoy waiting twenty minutes for you to finish pronouncing my name before I can listen to your message. Just call me Sága."

"Very well, Ms. Sága."

"Close enough," she grumbled, rolling her eyes at Tony.

"What makes you think I told him anything?" Tony asked, trying to feign innocence and fight back a smirk.

She ignored him, stepping through the elevator doors as soon as they opened. "Goodnight, Tony."

"Goodnight, Sághildr Heimdalardóttir!" he called back with much more emphasis.

She sent him an obscene gesture, something she had picked up from Barton and which was remarkably satisfying, just as the elevator doors slid closed. She grumbled to herself as she walked down the long hallway, draining the last of her tea.

Any bad mood Tony's teasing had put her in vanished immediately when she stepped into the laboratory and spotted Bruce Banner asleep at his desk, chin in his hand and glasses skewed. His free hand still held a pen pressed to paper for taking notes, though the movement had long since ceased. With a smile, she set her mug down and approached his desk, beginning to put things away.

She didn't know what the vast majority of the equipment did; but after many hours of watching Bruce and Tony working, she at least knew where everything went. She moved quietly, careful not to wake him up. She knew from experience that if he woke to unfinished work, he would argue to be allowed to stay for a little longer, only to fall asleep again shortly thereafter. Putting his tools away beforehand made him much more compliant.

Finally, she slid the pen out of his grasp and laid it aside. She placed her hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. "Bruce, darling, wake up," she murmured in his ear.

He started, eyes snapping open as he looked around, trying to remember where he was. "What? I-I was just—I'm not sleeping. I just needed a quick nap. I was working…"

"I know you were," she agreed. "And you did a very good job. But it's time to sleep now."

He looked around at his cleared desk, then blinked at her a few times, and nodded. "Yeah, sleep… Sleep sounds good."

She grinned. "It does, doesn't it? Come on, darling."

She led him down the hallway, into the elevator, up a few more floors, and back to their room. They climbed into bed together almost immediately.

"Will you sleep tonight?" Bruce asked, murmuring against her hair.

She thought about it for a moment. The days passed differently here than they did on Asgard, and she grew tired much less often than a full human. More often than not, Sága would spend her nights laying beside Bruce, wide-awake and continuing her ever-vigilant guard for attacks.

It was a bit of a strange arrangement, but she very much liked the way Bruce curled himself around her while asleep. She liked having his body close to hers. All the same, they both agreed that it was best when they both slept, which she hadn't done in several days now. She could feel the fatigue nagging at her vaguely, and slowly nodded her head. "Yes, I think I will."

A slow smile spread across his face. "Good. Sága, I…" He fell silent for a long time, pulling her even closer, wrapping his arms and legs around her and holding her safe and tight. She figured he had forgotten what he wanted to say, and let her eyes drift closed… "Sága, I love you."

Her breathing came to a halt, and she froze. He… They'd never said _that_ before. Her eyes snapped open, wondering if he had just been muttering nonsense in his exhaustion; but he was watching her sharply, waiting expectantly and nervously to hear what she would say. She wanted to be absolutely certain…

A broad smile made its way across her face before she even realized that she'd made a decision. She couldn't think of any reason not to. She had no doubts to speak of. "I love you, too, Bruce."

The words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush of white magic that she breathed into him, sealing such a weighty admission and promise with a worthy kiss.


End file.
